


Stoneheart

by darkesky



Series: Duality [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Twins, Episode: s01 Cœur de pierre - Origines | Stoneheart - Origins, F/M, Miraculous Ladybug PV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:21:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21584770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkesky/pseuds/darkesky
Summary: “Whatever this ancient evil is? I don’t want to be involved. I just want to stay here… I want to stay in the comfort of this box.” Nooroo pushed himself up and drifted over to the opening.The turtle kwami pushed himself up with a disgruntled huff. “I know you miss your last nymph, Nooroo, but one day, you’re going to leave this place. And when the world’s in ruins and you didn’t help save it, you’ll regret it.”“I’ve made heroes and villains. We’ve saved lives and we’ve taken them away. I can’t fall in love with another nymph just for them to break my heart," Nooroo responded.Wayzz sighed. “Your nymphs can’t even do as much damage as…”Nooroo shook his head. “My nymphs can’t do as much damage as Plagg’s kittens? It’s good to know I can’t rival the force of destruction.”“Bad luck,” Wayzz corrected.Nooroo glanced at him. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”--In which a new era begins.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe
Series: Duality [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555636
Kudos: 49





	1. Origins Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, hey guys! Long time no see, but I've finally made true on my promise to try and rewrite this series. I'm not sure how good this is, and the new episodes of Miraculous Ladybug since I stopped watching were... Wack to look at, to be completely honest. But, still! Fingers crossed it goes well!

_ More than anything, Nooroo wanted to sleep. He wanted to lay his head down and close his eyes; the rest of the world could burn around him. The storm could rage outside. That way, however, he neither added nor took away from the impending destruction. No more blame games, no more fights, no more betrayals.  _

_ His quieter wish was to be alone. The other kwamis always moved past their wielders so fast, too fast. Nooroo couldn’t let a single one of his nymphs go, even if generations passed in between. He hated watching their lives slip away, years going too fast when they’re there and too slow when they’re gone.  _

_ “There’s something strange going on,” whispered Wayzz as they laid side-by-side, staring up at the stars entwined on the ceiling of the box. “Some… Some ancient evil has been reawakened.” _

_ “All of us are here,” Nooroo responded. He rarely ventured out of his compartment of the box Master Fu kept stashed away, but he could sense their presence. None of the kwamis had gone missing. _

_ Despite the disgusted grunt Wayzz made in response, Nooroo trained his eyes on the stars. He never cared for his match to Wayzz; Wayzz might be his double, but he didn’t need to acknowledge it. Wayzz just proved to be an annoying motivation trainer, and Nooroo didn’t need motivation. Besides, how could Wayzz even comment on Nooroo’s grief for his nymphs? Master Fu would live many more years, and he wouldn’t have to watch the winds of time steal them away again and again. _

_ And the others… Well, they found some way to move on. Tikki and Plagg leaned on each other, and Duusu and Trixx fought each other to calm their nerves. Pollen never held her princes and princesses for too long.  _

_ Wayzz filled the silence, shifting. “It’s not from us. Master Fu thinks it’s someone… Someone like him. He’s optimistic—” _

_ “So, not an ancient evil, Wayzz,” Nooroo interrupted. Perhaps an evil of about 180 years?  _

_ The other kwami huffed. “Yes, an ancient evil, Nooroo. You know that he’s the youngest of his kind… And he’s just being childish about it! He hasn’t had someone like him in such a long time and he… He’s taking it the wrong way. He’s too inviting, no cautiousness. How am I supposed to tell him that they’re not meant to be his greatest ally; they’re meant to be his greatest foe?” _

_ “Why are you telling me this?” Nooroo asked. A suspicion started to build in his head. Nooroo was meant to be Wayzz’s greatest ally after all… _

_ But they were the only ones who had the potential to rip each other apart. _

_ Wayzz flinched. “Just… Need someone to consult.” _

_ “You’re meant to be the wise one,” Nooroo said softly. “I’m meant to be the childish one.” _

_ “Nooroo—”  _

_ “Whatever this ancient evil is? I don’t want to be involved. I just want to stay here… I want to stay in the comfort of this box.” Nooroo pushed himself up and drifted over to the opening. The box held seven distinctly different compartments attached to a central meeting spot. While Nooroo refused to leave his home, Wayzz (the motivational go-getter) and Tikki (Wayzz but feminine) refused to leave him be. He pushed it open and glanced imploringly at Wayzz. _

_ The turtle kwami pushed himself up with a disgruntled huff. “I know you miss your last nymph, Nooroo, but one day, you’re going to leave this place. And when the world’s in ruins and you didn’t help save it, you’ll regret it.” _

_ “I really won’t,” Nooroo responded. “I’ve made heroes and villains. We’ve saved lives and we’ve taken them away. I can’t fall in love with another nymph just for them to break my heart.” _

_ Wayzz sighed. “Your nymphs can’t even do as much damage as…” _

_ He hesitated, and Nooroo couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out. They both knew which two landed a spot on Master Fu’s watchlist. Letting them into the world toed the line of destruction, and Nooroo sadly had made a name for himself. And the other one… _

_ Nooroo’s laugh died out as he shook his head. “My nymphs can’t do as much damage as Plagg’s kittens? It’s good to know I can’t rival the force of destruction.” _

_ “Bad luck,” Wayzz corrected. _

_ Nooroo glanced at him. “No, I don’t think that’s it.” _

_ - _

“Aren’t you even going to try and dress up? Aren’t there boys to impress over there?” Her cousin’s voice rings out across the room, and Marinette tries to keep the groan from escaping. Even abandoning her pajamas felt like a huge task; she already wants to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head.

The mirror shows the same girl it had last year and the year before. She keeps her hair in its twin pigtails, no matter how many times Chloe mocks her for the childish nature of it (though sometimes, she wonders if she chooses to keep her hair like that to challenge Chloe). Her outfit hasn’t suddenly become scandalous or sexy or wild… She’s just another girl heading to school.

Finally, Marinette clears her throat and grabs her phone. “Bridge, it’s the same people every year. People don’t move in and out of the district. If they did, I… I think the world would  _ implode.” _

“Well, that seems dramatic.” Bridgette smiles before squinting at her through the phone screen. “I’m moving into the district soon, you know. We just gotta get the paperwork finished up.”

“And I’m excited! You’ll finally be able to put all of the names to faces! You know a few of them but for the most part…” Marinette squeals. No matter how many stories she tells her cousin, she misses the crucial parts of them. She misses the glimmer in Nino’s eyes, she misses the stutter in Rose’s voice, she misses Nathaniel’s shaking hands as he sketches.

Bridgette opens her mouth, but before she can start talking, Sabine’s voice drifts through the walls. “Marinette! You’re going to be late for school if you don’t hurry yourself up!”

“That’s your cue! I’ll see you soon!” Before Marinette can protest, Bridgette hangs up. She grimaces at the phone for a few seconds before laughing and rolling out of bed. Snatching her backpack from where she stashed it beside the door, she bounds down to the bakery.

Before her feet even hit the bottom of the floor, Tom snatches her up in a bear hug and spins her around. “Look at my baby girl! She was, like, five years old a month ago! Where did the years go?”

“Papa! Let me go!” She shrieks loudly and bats at his arms.

He squeezes her tighter. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you!”

“Please!” Before she wiggles out, a flash interrupts her. She blinks as the white slowly fades out of her vision. Then, Marinette sticks her tongue out at her mom, and Sabine shrugs.

Marinette doesn’t know when the tradition really started, or specifically  _ why  _ the tradition started, but their family doesn’t do traditional first day of school photos. Instead, they pick the most embarrassing ones of Marinette possible to stuff into the scrapbooks. She knows, off the top of her head, there is one of her eating a croissant and one of her hiding beneath her covers. She doesn’t mind; they’re always good for a laugh, and they’re fun to look at with Bridgette and Nino. 

Speaking of Nino, she already packed her backpack with him in mind. The Polaroid camera sits in the very front pocket. This way, even if Nino’s family doesn’t necessarily believe in taking first day of school photos, he still gets a few. He’s part of her family after all. And, she packed two lunches, one for her and one for him (Nino’s not a morning person, and he always forgets to pack a lunch).

Sabine grins before reaching over, flicking her nose. “I love you, Mari, but you oughta get going.”

“We’d hate to have you running. You’re no track star,” Tom teases before kissing her cheek.

Marinette immediately jumps onto her tippy toes and kisses her dad’s cheek in response. “I don’t need to be a track star! I’m going to be a fashion designer…”

“Or a baker!” Tom winks.

She laughs. “Or a baker! Bye, Maman! Bye, Dad! Love you!”

Rushing out the door, the sound of the bakery bell drowns out her parents’ responses. Marinette doesn’t mind too terribly; she knows they love her. Besides, she’ll be able to see them right after school. Actually, Marinette might try and sneak back home to eat lunch with them. No matter how old she gets, she always wants them to know they’re at the top of her list. 

All around her, Paris starts to come to life as their mornings begin. The sunshine thrums in the air and seeps beneath her veins. On the porches, parents kiss their kids goodbye and push them in the direction of the school. Kids start grouping up immediately, walking with their heads so close together they bump. Beneath trees, couples offer a different sort of kiss goodbye.

Marinette could spend eternity basking in a lazy Parisian morning. In fact—

In fact, someone else appears to have taken the advice to heart. 

A man in a Hawaiian shirt stands in the middle of the street, admiring the Parisian morning just as much as she does. However, on the opposite side of lazy comes the hurried mess of people running late (like Marinette usually does). If you don’t have enough time to smell the roses, you rush, and if you rush, you barrel towards the man in the street without looking away from your cellphone.

Her feet move before she makes up her mind, and she grabs his hand to drag him the rest of the way across the street. He makes a small noise of disapproval, and she glances over at him out of the corner of her eye. Then, her foot hits the curb. She barrels towards the ground and lands with a smack, hands and knees thumping hard against the concrete.

The car passes behind them, fast enough to splash the puddle up at their shoes. The man blinks before a slow smile crosses his face. “Thank you, miss. I imagine they didn’t intend to stop any time soon.”

“I think they were just moving fast. They definitely didn’t mean to.” Marinette gets to her feet and scoops her backpack off the ground. Somehow, the zipper jiggled open and spilled one of the lunch bags onto the sidewalk. She starts to scoop it up before she notes the way the man stares at the mess.

Then, she takes in the rest of the details of his face. She notes the way his shirt hangs off his body, the way his skin clings to his bones, and the sunkenness of his cheeks. The bags hang purple beneath his eyes, and he moves cautious, scared of his own shadow.

He notes her staring at him and backs up. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just a little envious. Did your parents help make that for you?”

“Yeah I… You know what? I actually made an extra today because I was feeling a little indecisive on what to eat.” Marinette plays with the tips of her ponytail before passing the bag to him. “I don’t need both of them.”

“Are you sure?” he starts.

The bell rings, and she turns her head towards the school immediately. “Oh, sorry, I gotta get going. But it’s all yours, I promise.”

As Marinette starts sprinting towards the school, the corners of her lips pull up. No matter what his background is, no matter why he hasn’t been able to eat lately, it doesn’t matter. Today, he will get a chance, and that’s what matters.

-

Nino falls into the rhythm without skipping a beat. Even if he’s ready to be done with science and mathematics, he knows how to be a master at both. He can apply himself just well enough that he’ll stay in the dead middle of the pack. Bottom of the pack means you get tutors and study sessions and no time to compose anything. Top of the pack means you get opportunities and advantages and no time to compose anything.

Remixes are, admittedly, the most fun… But he can’t help but wonder about making his own piece of music.

Besides, remixes belong to the past. If he wants to be even vaguely less bored, Nino needs to branch out of his current interests. Everything always stays the same here: the fencing jocks will rule the school with popularity with Chloe ruling with her daddy’s money. Nobody will stand out, but nobody will want to blend in either. He’s seen this song and dance before; he’s over it.

There is a small… Hiccup to the old routine though. A new girl stands in the front of the room, speaking with the new teacher. She moves her hands as she talks, her eyes bright behind her glasses. She’s excited to be here, and he finds himself wondering about the cadence of her voice. If he took off his headphones, would she sound like a melody?

Then, their conversation ends and the admittedly young teacher turns around. She locks eyes with him and smiles brightly. “Would you mind having a seat in the front row this year?”

He hesitates before heading down to the front row. It’s her first day; he’s not going to be the one who ticks her off.

Before he even sits down, the new girl kicks his seat and offers a big, shit-eating smile. After she gestures for him to take off his headphones, he rests them around his shoulders where the buzz of the bass still seeps through. “So I guess you must be the troublemaker of this school.”

“You flatterer.” He presses a hand against his chest and forces a big smile. Then, he shrugs. “Actually, I’d like to think of myself as the biggest goody two-shoes.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” She smirks.

His smile immediately turns genuine. “Not if you do it right. You’re looking at the Hall Monitor of the Year for the past sixteen years.”

“Sixteen years old, huh? So you did it as a fetus?” 

He nods. “I was a very impressive fetus.”

“Oh, I can tell.” The new girl winks. “Some people just put off impressive fetus vibes, you know. I’m Alya Cesaire, by the way.”

“Lahiffe.” He adjusts the red hat until it tips over his eyes. “Nino Lahiffe.”

“Very James Bond of you. I’m digging it.” Alya leans over the desk, and he spins around on the seat. He takes it back; whatever he meant before about the year not being different than any others? He has a feeling Alya is going to change everything at its very foundation.

Then, of course, the door to the classroom bursts open, and he glances over his shoulder. “Running late, Mari?”

“Are you surprised?” Marinette smiles before noticing Alya. She jumps up the steps and stumbles as she lands. “Hi, hey, sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. My name’s Marinette—”

“Looks like the loser found another loser to be friends with,” singsongs Chloe as she walks in the door. Sabrina follows at her heels and laughs, a little too shrill and a little too high to be believable. Nino rolls his eyes and puts his headphones back up. He knows exactly how this fight will go—

Alya kicks his seat again, and he pulls them back down. “And what exactly have I lost?”

“That seat.” Chloe glances at where the two of them plopped down their things. He wants to bury his head and ignore the brewing catfight, but considering the daggers Alya keeps staring into his back, if he wants to make a new friend, he needs to listen to this whole affair. “It’s mine.”

“And who made you the Queen of Seats?” Alya cocks her head slightly, widening her eyes.

Chloe smiles. “Who made you the Queen of the Losers? Don’t you think it’s a little early to pick sides already? Do you even know that you want to die on this hill with these people?”

“I know that they’re better people than you.” She waits for Chloe to try and contradict her.

Instead, Marinette clears her throat. “Chloe, I’ve sat here for so long. It’s always been my seat—” 

“Well, not today! We have plans for these seats, and it’s a brand new year!” Sabrina pushes up her glasses and flashes a confident smile. The way she presses the binder against her chest, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had a color-coded chart of how this would be going down. In fact, knowing Sabrina, she probably wrote down possible dialogues that would occur between Chloe and Marinette because every year, Marinette grows bolder but not bold enough.

Alya definitely threw a wrench in Sabrina’s planning ahead.

Alya lifts an eyebrow. “You have plans? For these particular seats?”

“Adrien Agreste is arriving today, and Chloe says he usually likes seats by doors and—” Sabrina punctuates her sentence with a sharp yelp as Chloe elbows her in the ribs. She tucks her head and shuffles her feet. “Yeah, we have plans.”

“Plans that we  _ don’t  _ need to share with two losers and a newbie,” Chloe interrupts.

Marinette blinks. “Who’s Adrien?”

“Probably another pompous rich brat, right?” Alya rolls her eyes.

Chloe sends her a sharp look. “No. I’ll have you know that he’s a great person, and he adores me, and he’s my best friend, so you better not talk bad about him. So, get up and move—”

“Marinette’s my best friend,” drawls Nino. Her head snaps to him, and he can feel the heat of the two girls’ gazes on him. “So, I’d probably advise you not to talk bad about her.”

“And I can tell these two are going to be my favorites,” Alya adds.

When he glances over his shoulder, Marinette’s absolutely glowing. Alya pushes to her feet, grabbing Marinette’s hand so she does the same. Marinette almost knocks over the chair, and a smile plays on Nino’s face. “On that note, Chloe, I guess you can have these seats. Marinette, Nino, and I are going to be friends no matter where we sit in proximity to each other. And if you can’t say the same about your friendship with ‘Adrien,’ then I feel sorry for you.”

As Chloe gapes at the two of them, Alya drags Marinette across the room and sits down defiantly. The two of them talk underneath their breaths, too low for him to even hope to hear…

And then Alya looks up and notices Nino gawking at her. He quickly settles into a chill pose, leaning back in his chair and grinning lazily. She widens her eyes and shakes her head teasingly, making it clear she doesn’t believe he’s cool. Then, she winks slyly at him.

Maybe there is a new beat to the same song and dance.

-

Adrien laces up his tennis shoes, flexing his feet carefully. He bought them online a few weeks back; they’re not designer, they’re not advertised by some major celebrity. They just fit right on his feet, and with the mirror pointed down like that, he’d never guess he’s an Agreste.

He’d just be a normal kid, going out for a run.

“So, are you going out for a run around the house? Because I’m not sure how much Nathalie would be into that.” His brother sits on the steps, some incredibly thick book balanced on his lap.

Adrien pauses. Well,  _ this  _ throws a wrench in his plans. “I was actually thinking about getting some fresh air!”

“We have tutoring sessions with Nathalie in two minutes, Adrien.” Felix keeps his eyes trained on his text, reading faster than Adrien could even attempt. He leans his weight back on the railing to wiggle past him. Shifting over, Felix presses his thigh against the step to make it impossible for him to get past without jumping. “I don’t know what merit a two minute run has.”

“Well, maybe…” He dangles his shoe over Felix’s thigh, debating just hopping over him. “Maybe you could cover for me…?”

“How about you run after lessons end? That way, you can get fresh air, and you can avoid getting into trouble.” His brother pauses and makes a face down at the book. Then, he closes and turns to stare at him. “Unless, of course, you have some sort of death wish. And this little ‘run’ of yours means getting in a fight with Father about the merit of school.”

Adrien freezes. “You knew?”

“You’ve been calling Chloe for the past three nights. You’re not that close with Chloe.” He rolls his eyes. “Why you’re close with Chloe at all is beyond me.”

“She’s sweet! You saw her when we were growing up!” Adrien protests. Then, he shifts until he suspends all of his weight on the railing and hops over Felix. His brother groans as he stares at him. “Felix, don’t you get bored? All we do is dream about the future and what we’ll accomplish then. We never… We never enjoy the  _ present,  _ Fe. I want to have fun now; I want to have a good life now.”

“Look around you, Adrien. How is this  _ not  _ a good life? Kids would kill to be in your shoes.” Felix gestures halfheartedly at the mansion.

Adrien wrinkles his nose. “It’s not about this stuff. It’s about… It’s about going out with friends and not caring what you eat and not scheduling every moment of your life. This isn’t life. This is…”

“Please, Adrien, tell me what this is. Tell me you’re willing to give this all up to go to school.” His brother gets to his feet, and Adrien can’t help but frown a little. Since Felix stays on the step higher than him, he’s just a little bit taller. “If Father gives you a little bit of leniency here, you’ll lose the other places he lets you run wild.”

“When do I ever get to run wild?” Adrien slowly backpedals on the stairs, and Felix gives one last sigh. He turns away from him and starts heading back up to their room. Adrien stares at his brother for one second before spinning on his heel and sprinting down the staircase.

Felix never understood why Adrien cares so much about athleticism. His agent already gushes over his physique, already impressed by how hard he works out. Adrien makes sure to pay more attention to his fencing studies than his  _ piano  _ skills. For the life of him, Adrien couldn’t stir up interest in piano if he tried. There isn’t any musicality there; he can’t put his heart into it. 

But when he fences? It just clicks in his head, perfectly. 

He doesn’t even make it to the gate when the calculated, clipped voice calls after him. “Adrien, please. You know what your father wants.”

“But what about what I want?” Adrien whispers, glancing over his shoulder. Felix might not be outside with Nathalie, but he knows Felix must have tattled on him. After all, he doesn’t want to go to school. And if Adrien finds a way to wiggle his way into school, he can’t imagine Felix will let him do it without following suit.

Sucking in a deeper breath, he slams against the gate and starts fiddling with the lock. He knows exactly how this goes. The Gorilla is rushing inside the house, trying to get to the limo. Nathalie serves as the diversion, letting her concern make Adrien’s hands shake as he attempts to break open the gate. They both know they won’t be able to catch him on foot; after all, the Gorilla is built to defend from strong attacks, not quick, and Nathalie hasn’t once worked out in front of him.

On the other side of the gate, there’s freedom. He memorized the path to school at night (Felix usually goes to bed before Adrien unless he has some large project to work on). If he just followed what he dreamt about for so many nights, he’ll get there. He already enrolled himself in the school online; it’s almost too easy to find all of the information needed, especially considering it’s an open enrollment school.

He manages to break open the gate and burst free. Something flashes in the corner of his eye, though, and Adrien carefully hops on one foot to avoid whatever rolls around wildly.

“Please!” a voice calls out, wavering. 

The man lays sprawled on his stomach, reaching for the white cane. His hand falls just short of it, though, and scrambles on the concrete. Adrien can make out the dirt trapped beneath some nails and blood beneath others, and the man’s body shakes with the effort.

And he knows—he  _ thinks— _ Nathalie would help him up. 

But Adrien still finds himself stooping down, picking up the cane, and offering his free hand to the older man. “I think you dropped this.”

“Thank you, young man.” The man grins and grabs his hand, and Adrien drags him to his feet. When he wobbles, Adrien grabs his shoulders and steady him and offers his most dazzling smile. 

Nathalie clears her throat. Somehow, she approached behind him, and now, she places a protective hand on his shoulder. “Adrien, step away from the… Stranger.”

“Sorry, I’m sure you have more pressing matters. You obviously had someplace you wanted to be.” The old man offers one last thank you and winks, hobbling off with his cane. 

He brushes off her hand. “Nathalie, I just want some semblance of a normal life.”

“Well…” Adrien glances up at her, but she keeps her eyes trained on the back of the man. “I’m sure your life will get a lot more interesting; just give it time.”

-

Marinette tries to balance on her tiptoes, peering over Alya’s shoulder into her locker. On the side, Alya pinned up a whiteboard, and she doodled a flower with  **___BLOG** printed neatly beneath it. “What’s that for?” 

“Oh, your school doesn’t have a newspaper. So I’m going to make an online blog.” Alya drops her backpack and closes the door carefully. “I can’t decide what I want the theme to be yet, though. I have very niche interests… Superheroes are slowly fading out of popularity.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Far From Home didn’t come out that long ago.” Marinette grins. Over the summer, when Bridgette came to visit and her parents worked out the logistics of her coming for the school year, the two of them snuck out to the movie theater to watch it. “I’m sure you could make a great superhero themed blog. I’d be your first follower!”

“Is that so? Maybe you could help me out. I want to do vlogs and photos and essays…” Alya laughs. “Can you tell I’m indecisive yet? This blog is going to be my brainchild all semester, so it has to be good.”

“I’m sure it will be! Vlogs and photos and essays… All of them sound really good!” She bounces on her heels.

Alya laughs again. “It’s nothing groundbreaking, I promise. It’s just me reporting on other people… Little less talented than, like, Tom Holland acting.”

Nino clears his throat. “Not to mention, Tom Holland is hot.”

“Oh, you would know.” Throwing the bag over her shoulder, Alya spins her dial a few times. “I’m sure you spent the entire movie staring at his ass.”

“Guilty as charged.” He winks and leans against the lockers. “Where are we heading to lunch? Stadium, home?”

“My house is out of the question… Too far of a walk,” Alya starts. Nino adds in agreement, and Marinette casts him a curious look. Considering he  _ walks  _ to school every day… 

Nino just shakes his head, and she drops it.

Then, she shuffles her feet. “You know, I bet I can text my maman and ask her if we can eat at the bakery today. It might be a little packed, but it’s always fun, and I think I can find some of the day-olds to eat.”

“Day-olds… Hold up.” Alya throws up her hand. “Girl, you live in a bakery and haven’t told me about it?”

“It hasn’t come up—”

“The Dupain-Chengs make bombass… Bombass  _ anything.  _ You haven’t experienced Paris until you’ve been there.” Nino nudges Marinette, who flushes bright red. “What? Embarrassed?”

“I don’t know if it’s better than anyone else’s, but it’s really good.” She smiles. “Even the day-olds are pretty good.”

“Well, with all this hype, I’m on board. Show us the way, Marinette.” Alya steps back to let her take the lead, and she laughs and twists a ponytail around her finger. 

They make it about halfway down the hallway before they hear a voice bellow out. “KIM!”

Kim slides out of Miss Bustier’s classroom, ramming into Nino’s chest. He laughs and pushes him back. “If anyone asks, I went to the library for lunch!”

“If anyone asks…?” Alya turns to peer in the classroom right as Ivan stomps out, feet pounding a rhythm into the floor. She can feel the vibration, and if the feeling wasn’t enough, she can hear the crack of his sneakers against the tile. 

Marinette steps in front of Ivan. “Are you okay, Ivan? What happened?”

“Not now, Marinette.” He brushes past her, strong enough to make her stumble. Alya springs to her feet, opening her mouth with some sharp retort, but Marinette grabs her arm. There’s no reason to cause a scene, especially if Ivan already appears upset about something. She doesn’t need to add to that issue; he doesn’t react like this often. Or, at least, last year, he never used to react like that.

Nino sighs. “Kim’s still a little shit.”

“Nino!” Marinette swats at his arm, but Nino dances out of her range.

Alya lets out a long breath. “Every school has one, you know. It’s nice to figure out who they are early on. Let’s see… Kim, Chloe… Who else?”

“Alix and Kim are two peas in a pod,” Nino says without skipping a beat. He steers the two of them towards the front of the school. “The two of them are the best fencers on the team, and that team is part of the reason our school is even vaguely known around Paris. Otherwise, nobody would ever bother to learn our name.”

“Which is…?” Alya drawls.

Marinette giggles. “None of them are really that bad, Alya, I promise. You just have to get to know them. Kim is a little… Antsy, I guess, and excitable, but he never really means to cause any harm. He treats Max and Alix, his best friends, the exact same way as Ivan. He just doesn’t understand boundaries.”

“Leave it to you to find the best in everyone, ‘Nette.” Nino bumps his shoulder against hers.

Alya winks. “Well, I’m not surprised. After all, she’s friends with you.”

“Alya, that one really hurt. I’m going to go home and cry about it.”

-

In Marinette’s bedroom, Alya pulls up the setup to her new website. At some point, in the middle of a mouthful, Marinette mentioned her passion. Nino immediately perked up and started asking questions she didn’t know how to answer without showing them. The blank format, though, looks a lot less interesting on her phone. It just… Looks blank, rather than ready to be filled up. 

She already has a spreadsheet, trends researched for each day of the week. Alya’s been playing with a link to the actual news, wondering if that might be a better thing to report on. She has the format perfect for cutting and putting the first video or text post on… The only problem is trying to figure out where to begin. After all, Alya’s a quiet up-and-coming star. Nobody’s going to know her name when she starts out, and she needs to find the best place to start advertising.

“Damn, girl.” Nino lets out a low whistle. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I want to be a journalist, and a journalist requires two things: a voice and an audience listening to that voice.” She spins on Marinette’s seat, who takes in the site with complete awe. Alya clears her throat. “You look a little awestruck considering just how impressive this room is, girlie.”

“What? Oh, that stuff?” Marinette gestures wildly about her room. The first thing she said upon entering was an apology for the mess. She doesn’t seem to understand how much raw genius resides within these walls. She has fashion drawings pinned up against the walls, proportions already measured and color swatches attached at the bottoms. Two mannequins face the walls, draped with various assortments of fabric. “It’s really nothing.”

“It’s really impressive,” interrupts Nino. “For the school dances, she always makes her own dresses. Juleka and Rose tried to get her to take commissions.”

“It’s kinda a small, side passion thing.” The color rising in her cheeks protests every word in her mouth. 

Alya snorts. “Well, it shouldn’t be. Look at how good everything is, Marinette! This doesn’t deserve to be shoved into your bedroom. Like… If you’re good at something, and you can share it, why wouldn’t you? Back me up here, Nino.”

“She’s good… She’s  _ really  _ good.” Nino hesitates. “But it’s up to her.”

“Thank you. I mean it,” Marinette stammers out. Then, she reaches out and points to something on the screen. “What does this hyperlink?”

“The actual news. I’ve actually been playing with this feature.” Alya can sense the diversion in the topic, but Nino gives her a slight shake of his head. It’s probably not the best place to challenge her. However, in no way will this be the last time they address it. She’ll fight tooth and nail to get Marinette to be willing to step into the spotlight. After all, people like Marinette deserve it so much more than Chloe. 

She settles back in the chair. “I don’t watch our news very often. Have you seen American news? It’s all high stakes and drama.”

“I try to avoid that kind of stuff. It makes me feel bad.” Marinette swings her legs before leaning forward, trying to get a better look at the screen. “This  _ looks  _ like Paris, though. They’re speaking in French.”

“I’m not sure how well my audience would relate to that particular interest.” Alya smiles over at her, and she lets out a laugh. “Nino, what’s your take on the news?”

“It’s boring,” he says. 

She pauses. “Boring? It’s the only way we get to see into the politics of our world. Otherwise, we’ll just be subject to their decisions. We might not be able to vote yet, but we need to be informed.”

“One vote against the many,” he reminds her.

Alya rolls her eyes. “I hate that mentality. Just because you don’t get a direct say doesn’t mean you don’t have some sort of say. C’mon, watch the news with me, Nino. We’ll find something exciting… Something about this  _ has  _ to interest you.”

“I almost guarantee you it won’t…”

“Holy shit,” Alya whispers the second she clicks open the link. “Is that green screen?”

Occupying the corner of her screen, a stone creature dominates one of the streets near the school. Every inch of his body appears so…  _ Real. Touchable.  _ She can imagine running her hands running over the stone, coming away damaged and bloodied from the jaggedness of the gray mass. Every step he takes drills holes into the street, fracturing outwards like a spiderweb from the initial impact.

It pauses and bellows, voice raspier but… Familiar. She  _ just  _ heard it. But where…? “KIM!”

“Ivan,” Marinette and Nino say at once. 

She pushes to her feet, mind abuzz. “Supervillain. Ivan’s… Ivan’s turned into a supervillain. Holy shit, I am  _ so  _ out of here!”

“Where are you going?” Marinette watches as Alya slides across the room, snatching her backpack off the ground. She yanks her camera out of the front pocket and slides the lanyard around her neck. Then, Alya wiggles the pouch full of batteries and hooks it to one of the belt loops of her jeans. 

She only spares them a customary look. “If there’s a supervillain, there’s always a superhero close behind. It’s how every story works! It’s what happened in Spider-Man, it’s what happened in Iron Man… Hell, even look at the conspiracy theories about the destruction of Franconville a decade ago!”

“That’s all… Fiction, though. This is dangerous,” protests Marinette.

Alya scoffs. “You don’t get big breaks by playing it safe, Marinette. This is my big chance… This is the kind of content I want to cover. All of the adults need to follow their safety guidelines and stay as safe as possible. I don’t need to be safe… I just need to go and get the best story possible!”

“Alya…”

She’s already halfway down the steps to the front door, though. She pauses at the bottom and calls up at the two of them. “If you want to join me, you’re welcome to. I’m going to go get the best cut yet!”

-

Felix loves his twin, he absolutely adores him, but Adrien hasn’t figured out the proper way to execute a cold shoulder. He always acts completely on impulse. When Adrien runs hot, he runs hot. He’ll be jealous and snippy and mean,  _ and he’ll keep stabbing his textbook with his pencil,  _ but it’ll fade. And when Adrien loses that heat, he gives big dopey smiles and cracks jokes like it’s his first language.

Nathalie sits at the head of the table, glancing between the two of them. She keeps settling on the way Adrien sits in his seat. Then, she ducks her head in the iPad and adjusts it in such a way her mouth isn’t visible. “Adrien, do you need me to repeat the question?”

“You’ve repeated the question three times. I think Adrien is going on strike right now.” Felix rolls his eyes. “It’s not working.”

“I think it’s working perfectly.” Adrien flinches the second the words are out of his mouth. He flips a page in the textbook and frowns at the image.

He nods at his twin. “Just like the silent treatment is?”

“Felix, don’t pick fights.” Nathalie focuses her gaze on Adrien. Her whole body slumps, and her hand reaches out before wavering. Then, she places it on the table as if that’s what she always intended. “Adrien, who was the first president of the 5th French Republic?”

Adrien gives Felix a dirty look, green eyes shooting daggers. Then, he glances over at Nathalie and sighs. “De Gaulle.”

“Coty,” Felix corrects. 

He presses his pencil down, and the lead snaps. Tossing it in the air, Adrien spins it over his knuckles. “I quit. I’m quitting.”

“Quitting?” He raises an eyebrow.

Adrien ignores him. “I’m quitting school. I’m not allowed to go to public school. I have to compete with you here. I’m just going to quit school and become a homeless person on the street. It’ll be more fun, and it’ll be more free, and it’ll be everything I want life to be.”

“Adrien, don’t you think that’s a tad dramatic?” Nathalie places her iPad down on the table to look him dead in the eye.

He doesn’t blink. “No.”

The sharp click of dress shoes stop right in front of the doorway, and Felix lifts his head lazily. Adrien snaps into position and curls his hands over the side of the textbook tight enough his knuckles turn white. “Give me a minute with my sons, would you, Nathalie?”

“Yes, sir.” Nathalie offers them a single nod as she gets to her feet. “Boys.”

“Nathalie,” they chorus back without hesitation. No matter how mad Adrien might be at the two of them, he’ll never try and defy tradition. The two of them have been saying that as long as he can remember… He can’t even imagine a time Nathalie hadn’t found a way into the workings of the family. 

When Nathalie disappears up the stairs, Gabriel locks eyes with Adrien. “What was this I heard about you trying to go to school? I think we’ve already had this conversation.”

“Father-” Adrien’s voice rises in pitch, but Gabriel holds out a hand. He cuts off with a squeak and glances down at his shoes.

Felix curls his hands into fists on his lap. 

Gabriel sighs. “Adrien, everything you could possibly want is right here where I can keep an eye on you. Besides, you’re too reckless, Adrien. You’re going to get yourself hurt.”

Snorting, Felix glances over at Adrien. Their father, miraculously, failed to notice all the mischief Adrien causes in the house. His brother sneaks around the house in the early hours of morning, balancing on the railing of the stairs and seeing just how far he can slide on the wooden floors without ramming into anything. 

“Do you have something you’d like to add, Felix?” Gabriel snaps his gaze over to Felix, and Adrien dares to peek up. At least with the attention diverted, he knows his brother will come back to life.

He clears his throat. “If I may, Father, I think Adrien might benefit from exploring the outside world. His future career will involve social skills, and while he’s developing them at an adequate pace, it stands to reason he could get more exposure to a wider range of people, he’ll be able to develop them faster. It’s good practice for the future.”

“He’s doing just fine. Besides, he can always practice with you—”

“But he’s my twin! I don’t need to practice with him,” Adrien blurts. His leg bounces beneath the table, higher and higher. “It just… It’s natural with him. But I want a regular life, Father. I want to make friends just like everyone else.”

“Well, you’re not everyone else. You are my son.” Gabriel fixes him with a cold look, and Adrien ducks his head once more. Felix shifts closer to his brother in an attempt to give him a little more comfort. Then, he clears his throat. “Continue with your schoolwork. It appears both of you still have much to learn.”

Felix ducks his head to whisper in Adrien’s ear before Gabriel even leaves the room. Lord knows he won’t look over his shoulder. “I tried. I really did.”

“I know you did. You broke out all the fancy lawyer words.” Adrien stares up at the ceiling, and he climbs to his feet. “Thank you, Fe.”

“Adrien, it’s going to be okay—” He reaches for his brother, but he jerks away. Adrien shuffles out of the room before breaking out into a sprint, his footsteps echoing through the tall walls and the empty hallways. Felix buries his head in his arms.

Nathalie raps on the wall as she reenters. “I presume it didn’t go well.”

“How’d you guess?” Felix lifts his head before sighing. “We know the drill, Nathalie.”

“Business as usual. You’ll catch your brother up?” She slides in the seat across from him and begins to pack away Adrien’s plethora of colored pens and notes. 

He sighs. “I always do.”

-

Marinette taps through photos of the developing news story, hand shaking on the mouse of her computer. Only moments ago, she huddled around her computer with a smile thick on her face. Now, she wants to turn off the lights and dive beneath the covers again. How in the world could this become the reality she lives in?

Everyone knows about the destruction of Franconville. Rumors fly around it every year, no matter what comes up. The entire city sits in ruins, crumbling into ash and dust at the corners. When anyone approaches the site, they come back with a cough and fall victim to whatever curse plagues it. The city possesses all the supernatural she needs in her world though; Marinette just avoids any mention of the city. 

This time, though, the supervillain sought out her home to destroy. She can’t wrap her mind around the fact she’s using the term  _ supervillain  _ unironically. Tomorrow, every news page will be consumed with photos of the supervillains from Paris to the United States. Oh, God,  _ Bridgette  _ will be calling her tonight to find out all of the details. Her cousin always romped closer and closer to Franconville, curious about the danger there.

Marinette sighs and pushes away from her desk. What do you do now? Does she run downstairs and hide herself away, desperate to make sure the rest of the world can’t affect her? Does she try to find her parents, who ran out to deliver pastries? Does she call up every one of her friends just to hear their voices?

The chair rolls to a stop as it hits the chaise. She twists to fall onto it before pausing. Sitting in the middle, tucked into a divet in the cushions, a petite box stares back at her. Chinese scripture lines the side, a harsh red to the dark wood. As she reaches to pick it up, a spark runs from her fingers and sends it flying back to the floor. Marinette yelps and jumps to her feet.

“You’re just freaking out because of… That,” Marinette whispers to herself, waving her hand in the direction of her computer. Then, she falls to her knees and grabs the box again. This time, no spark jumps out at her fingers, and a soft smile spreads on her face. Sabine probably got a present for her… One last first day of school gift. 

Her fingers slide along the seam, and she opens it with a light  _ click.  _ Beneath the gentle light, something red and black gleams at her… A red blur starts to form at the edges of her vision, and when Marinette blinks, a red blur charges at her face.

Shrieking, Marinette chucks it across the room, and the box lands with a harsh thud against the trap door. Balancing herself on her knees, she blinks again and again. The red blur doesn’t go away, though. Instead, it starts to form into a real shape… Some kind of bug? Some kind of  _ massive  _ bug? A hybrid between a bug and a mouse?

It floats in the air, studying itself for a few seconds. It stretches out its stubs of arms, and the black spots stick out against its red skin. When it maneuvers about, elongating its back and doing a lazy flip in the air, a white glow starts to surround it. 

Then, it pauses and brown eyes meet blue. “Everything’s okay! Don’t be scared!”

It’s…  _ Talking. _

No, no, no. Marinette’s not doing this. Maybe, when she helped the old man out of the street today, she hit her head as well as skinning her knees. Maybe the supervillain and the mouse thing all came from a concussion. Or… Or maybe she never woke up for school. She knew she got out of bed way too easily.

Her world revolves around her, and her breath catches in her throat. As Marinette locks her arms around her knees, she buries her face in her thighs. “This can’t be happening. This… What even is  _ today?” _

“Marinette, breathe.” Something light lands on her shoulder. A warm buzz hits the arm and seeps into her skin, and the anxiety disappears. Her breath evens out. Her hands and legs stop shaking. Slowly, Marinette peels her face back from her thighs.

She lets out a breath. “How did you do that?”

“It’s an old trick!” the bug-mouse says, a smile bigger than its face sitting from cheek to cheek (if Marinette could call them cheeks). “It doesn’t always work, but I haven’t done anything but practice for what feels like  _ centuries.” _

“Centuries?” echoes Marinette. She shakes her head. “What even are you?”

“A kwami!”

“A kwami.” She glances at her phone in the corner of her eye. Right now, she’d kill for a chance to retreat into her… Well, into a different part of her bedroom just to start doing some extensive research. 

It senses her confusion. “I have a lot to explain, I know. This is all new… My name’s Tikki.”

“I’m Marinette,” she says after an awkward silence. She grasps its— _ Tikki’s— _ paw with her index finger and thumb before shaking it up and down. Tikki giggles, and Marinette stares with wide eyes. Then, a laugh starts to bubble at her lips. “Why are you even here, Tikki?”

“Well, you’re the only one who can stop Stoneheart after all!” Tikki glances at the monitor which still proudly presents the news program.

The laugh dies.  _ “I’m  _ the superhero Alya’s waiting for?”

-

Contrary to what Felix thinks, Adrien can execute pettiness to the same degree his twin can. That’s why he sits against the locked door, a box cradled in his hands. On the top of the dark wood, the Chinese word for  _ destruction  _ stares back at him. He traces his finger in the word, engraved so deeply the tip of his finger seems to disappear entirely.

While he has no idea why Felix would buy something like this for himself, he knows it certainly isn’t his. If he’s going to be petty for his brother ratting him out to Nathalie, he can open the box! He can open this little, charming box and leave it open; that way, when Felix finally returns to their room, he’ll know exactly what happened. 

A satisfied smile crosses Adrien’s face. The world may be ending outside, but maybe he can go out on a high note. At the very least, if the world starts to truly end, the two of them will get a good laugh out of his one act of pettiness. 

Popping the cover off the box, something electric strikes at his fingers. Adrien drops the box in surprise, cussing sharply, and something black spirals out and hits him in the face. Rubbing at the red hot flaring up in his cheek, he blinks to refocus his vision. “What the  _ hell  _ is… Oh…”

“Not quite the warm welcome I wanted.” A… Cat-Mouse yawns and sits atop his knee.

Adrien stares at it. “What the hell?”

“C’mon, kid. You’re barely past puberty… Can you even say that big of a word?” It reaches its paw out and taps on his leg. Despite the reassuring nature of the tap, the condescension comes through just as well as it would have if Felix would have been the one to do it.

Clearing his throat, Adrien tries to search for  _ any  _ word. Yet, his mind just keeps looping back to the litany of  _ what the hell  _ echoing in his head. It… It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t know what this is, and he doesn’t know where the box came from, and he doesn’t understand anything. 

The creature pats his knee again. “Don’t worry. You’ll get there.”

“Robin Williams,” he blurts. 

It pauses. “What.”

“You’re… You’re like Robin Williams. You know…” Adrien flails his arms around, trying to illustrate the genie coming out of the lamp. While he doubts he portrayed it well at all, understanding lights up in the creature’s green eyes.

Then, it snorts. “A genie? Psh… Nobody really likes genies. All they do is scam you, and that’s a little too much effort for me. And I prefer Plagg to Robin Williams.”

“Plagg… Like  _ plague.  _ And you came out of a box saying destruction…” He leans back and lets his head smack back against the door. He royally screwed this up, didn’t he? He was Pandora and unleashed the greatest evil into the world, and he was going to be the second person to become a supervillain today. When he told Felix he planned to live homeless and desolate, he was  _ kidding… _

Now, he’s not so sure.

He runs a hand through his hair. “You were Felix’s because he never would have opened the box.”

“Felix’s?” Plagg gags. “What kind of name is Felix? Wait, hold up, what’s your name, kid? Tell me it’s better than  _ Felix.” _

“Adrien Agreste.” He flinches the second he says his name. You don’t tell ancient evils your name… That’s pretty simple. In all of the mythology he read, you have to give fake names because real names hold such weight.

Suddenly, the bug-mouse shoots up from his knee and flicks him in the nose. “Don’t be so…  _ Boring  _ and dire. I might be a god, a  _ kwami  _ to be specific, of destruction, but I can’t do anything with a wielder. Follow?”

“No. I really don’t. How could anyone in their right mind follow that?” Adrien bats him away from his face, but Plagg simply settles in between his fingers. 

He curls up, oddly catlike there. “The choice is yours, blah blah blah. Force of good or force of bad, I can’t really stop you once you begin. So, I can’t really destroy the world. You could, though, kiddo… Oh, don’t make that face at me. Very few of my kittens try to do that.”

“I could destroy the  _ world?”  _ His voice squeaks out.

Plagg rolls his eyes. “But right now, it seems like something else is destroying the world. So I guess the choice really won’t be yours if you let it keep happening. Unless, of course, you want to stop Stoneheart.”

“Stop… Like… Aladdin?”

The creature facepalms. “No. Like a superhero.”

“That… Makes more sense. But how? I don’t even leave my house. I don’t even go to  _ school.  _ My twin brother does more than I do!” Adrien pushes to his feet, and Plagg nips on his index finger. “Ow! What the hell, Plagg?”

“Well, obviously,  _ Adrien Agreste  _ would be a sucky superhero. And I, myself, would make an awful superhero. But the two of us together can become something great. Do you want to learn how?” A sharp gleam enters the kwami’s eyes. Adrien lets out a surprised laugh before eagerly nodding. “That’s a good answer, kiddo. Now, all you have to say is put on this ring and say  _ claws out-” _

Adrien complies without another thought, sliding the ring onto his ring finger. It shrinks, fitting snugly against his skin all at once.  _ “Claws out!” _

Plagg lets out a sharp expletive before darting into the ring.

All at once, the world flashes into shades of green. The tall windows, the outside world, the inescapable walls… All turn into a dazzling green. Black creeps into his vision, veins of ink spreading through the green. His whole body buzzes, a warm rush settling in his veins. Then, the black and green both freeze, the fractals of light pausing in their rapid pursuit across his vision.

When he blinks again, it’s all gone. All that’s left is the buzz in the air, the rush in his blood, and Adrien bounds over to the mirror. 

_ “Mon Dieu…” _

-

_ “Spots on!” _

Tikki cheers as she zips into the earrings.

The world shifts, disappearing into hues of blue. The gleam off her vanity’s glass, the mannequins refusing to show their faces, the computer screen… All twist into a brilliant sky blue. Her whole body sings, a cool brushstroke of wind settling against every inch of exposed skin. Then, the blue freezes, the fractals of glimmering right halting in their dance across her vision. 

When she blinks, the blue goes away. All that’s left is the song in the air, the cool wind in her blood, and Marinette leans forward to inspect herself in the mirror.

The red and black suit feels like a second skin, and even as she twists to inspect every inch of her body, nothing pops out to her as something extravagant. While Marinette would  _ never  _ wear something like this, it feels so…  _ Right.  _ If she closes her eyes, she can even hear Tikki’s song in the back of her ears. It sounds like a lullaby, a comforting way to reassure her that she’s right there.

“Tikki, is this me as a superhero?” Marinette waits for an answer but only receives silence. She nods to herself. Maybe all this means is that Tikki can’t communicate to her when she’s in her costume. Carefully, she traces her fingers along the utility belt wrapped snugly against her hips, exposing the contours of her body.

Her fingers catch on a string. When she pulls on it, a yo-yo falls out with a single flick of her wrist. Before it crashes into anything, she curls her fingers in and stops it in its tracks. It feels like… It feels like poetry, like finishing a rhyme she always knew. 

Marinette catches her eye in the vanity once again. A small smile settles on her face. It feels  _ right,  _ somehow. Clumsy, awkward, inexperienced Marinette somehow belongs perfectly in this suit. She could have cried at the great irony of it all. That someone like her wound up right here instead of Alya or even  _ Chloe.  _ Both of them had so much confidence she wishes that she could just  _ grab  _ some of it.

Then, a roar from outside interrupts her inner monologue. She crosses her room in a neat bound, landing on her desk chair hard enough to roll it straight back to the computer. Marinette props herself on her elbows to study the screen.

Stoneheart seems to have found a destination for his rampage. The massive holes in the streets hint at his speed increasing, and in the background of the helicopter’s camera, she can make out the stadium in the distance. It makes sense, she notes distantly. Kim would probably retreat there.

“I don’t think I can do  _ that  _ one,” Marinette murmurs to herself. She can look the part, but she doubts she can play… The… Part…

Alya and Nino flicker on the screen for one second, but it’s enough for Marinette to fill in the rest of the details. Stoneheart leaves massive debris wherever he runs to. Of  _ course,  _ the two of them figured out where he is. He might not tower over the tops of buildings, but Stoneheart makes enough noise for anyone with half a brain cell to figure out his general location.

And Alya is just the right sort of recklessness for a superhero. She’d leap straight into a fight without a doubt, and if Kim’s there, a fight is all but guaranteed. That means… 

_ If there’s a supervillain, there’s a superhero not far behind. _

Marinette, if only just for today, can stop a supervillain. She can make sure Alya doesn’t get hurt at all. She marches towards her window and throws it open, ducking out and centering her feet on her balcony. As long as she doesn’t think too much about anything she’s doing, Marinette will be able to do everything. It’s just a matter of confidence, and superheroes have enough confidence to spare… So, she’ll pretend she has this confidence.

“Okay, yo-yo, let’s see what you’re good for.” She swings it once before tossing it blindly at the next building. It strikes at the ledge before falling. Twisting her wrist, she brings the yo-yo back to her palm before staring at the building once more. Maybe it needs to be more… Purposeful. It might be magic, but magic probably needs a realistic goal to latch onto. That’d make sense.

What could the yo-yo latch onto…? Maybe the gargoyle?

Marinette tosses it out again, and this time, it wraps itself neatly about the base of the gargoyle. She lets out a squeal between her teeth. “I can’t believe that actually worked!”

She leaps over the railing of her balcony and lets herself fall, hands still tight around the string to the yo-yo. No matter how thin it feels against the thickness of her gloves, some voice reminds her that ladybugs can fly. Even when they’re falling, they know how to fly (and Marinette wonders if this is how Tikki’s about to communicate with her). 

Then, Marinette swings past the gargoyle, and the yo-yo returns to her, looking for something else to grasp. She looks around as the world around her starts to blur downwards before noting a silver pole. There she goes… She’s getting the hang of this! The string tangles around the pole and starts bringing her up higher and higher and…

And straight into  _ a boy. _

The yo-yo’s string tangles tightly, pressing her cheek hard against his chest. When she pulls away, she just  _ knows  _ she’ll be getting an indent. Marinette dares to peek up and gets met with green eyes, accented by the all black mask surrounding them. His pupils have narrowed into slits, and twin ears peek out amidst his mess of blond hair. He must be modeled after a cat, just like she’s modeled after a ladybug.

She opens her mouth to speak, but something sparks between them. The baton and the string both shine brilliant white before giving out, the baton returning smaller and smaller and the string of her yo-yo ricocheting back at her. They slam against the ground,  _ hard. _

He springs to his feet before she even stops rubbing at her bruised shoulder. “What a  _ rush!  _ And to think, I already got you falling for me, miladybug.”

“I’m sorry,” she stammers out without a second thought. 

The boy winks, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “No problem. When we touched,  _ literal  _ sparks flew.”

“So you felt it too? Because the box sparked when I picked it up.” Marinette scrambles to her feet, leaning forward to hear whatever answer he provides her. Then, her face turns ashen. “Don’t… Don’t make that flirty. I meant did you feel the spark.”

“I certainly do feel the pull of attraction towards you.” He grins, claiming a Chesire cat smile as his own. “If we’re going to be feeling some sparks together, I’m Chat Noir.”

“Chat Noir? I’m…” Marinette hesitates. She hadn’t thought this far into the future. Obviously, ladybug needs to be somewhere in her name; he already took “chat noir” after all. But… Does she need to do something special? Coccinelle to match the French? Ladybug to stand out? Marienkafer, just to stick out and be German? It’d be the tough choice…

In her haze, she flicks her wrist up and brings the yo-yo back. It rebounds off the ground and slams against his cheek, and Chat Noir winces. “Oh, man, and now you’re hitting on me? I’m really feeling the love right now, miladybug.”

“I’m sorry,” she says without skipping a beat.

He pauses and then shakes his head. “It’s fine. We’re both learning the ropes after all.”

His green eyes pierce her strangely, and something glows in her chest, adding to the song echoing in the back of her head. Tikki likes this boy; she already can tell the fondness developing into some melody. Marinette… Well, if she’s going to smile into her pillow a little longer than necessary tonight over a boy flirting with her? That’s certainly not something everyone needs to know.

“I’m—”

Stoneheart bellows in the distance, and a building comes crashing down. She flinches away from Chat Noir, who spins on his heel to try and identify the direction of the sound.

She sighs. “Okay then. Moment’s over… Where are you going?”

“To save Paris!” Chat Noir takes a running start and then leaps through the air. As he barrels forward, the baton extends and boosts him towards the sky. Marinette stares at his graceful actions, how he didn’t even skip a beat, and stares down at the yo-yo still tightly clenched in her hand. 

The song roars out any doubt she might have, and she bounces on her heel. “Okay, just trust yourself.”

She swings her yo-yo, and she takes off.

-

With each thump of the baton against the sidewalk, Chat’s heart begins to explode in his chest. He bites his lip to contain the scream building in his throat. Somewhere out there, someone  _ finally  _ let him have a little miracle in his life. 

If you would have asked him yesterday, Chat would have venomously clung to the hope of going to school for the first time. He would insist that would be the highlight of his year… Obviously, he’d be  _ so wrong  _ about that! If Chat can go and confront a giant stone golem, why wouldn’t he able to hold his own against his father?

He extends his baton one last time and vaults  _ into  _ the stadium. The wind dances in his mussed hair as he starts falling toward the ground, but Chat lets out a delighted shriek instead. Who would’ve thought he’d be able to jump into the Parc de Princes without using the front door? 

He lands with a nimble roll and starts upright. Glancing around the stadium, he starts to take in the scene. In the middle of the stadium, the stone beast lumbers toward a boy. The boy keeps scrambling back, face pale and face shining when the sun hits it. His ankle swelled to half its size, and his hair sticks up in every direction, the hair gel an unfortunate victim of today.

Chat doesn’t know where the stone golem will cross the line, but he’s not willing to find it. He runs forward and dives between the creature’s leg. “Hey! You should really consider picking on someone your own size!”

“Dude,” the boy whispers between him, barely audible. “You’re a-”

“I’m  _ your  _ knight in shining leather.” Chat glances over his shoulder and winks. He twists on his heel and scoops up the other boy. “Get ready for a bumpy ride.”

“COME BACK!” the golem bellows. Chat takes off running, jumping between each bound. The boy yelps and buries his face in Chat’s shoulder, body trembling with each jostle of his ankle. Chat winces in sympathy. Yet, he needs to find someplace safe to tuck him away… Hiding him is completely out of the question, and leaving the stadium means the stone golem will chase him across town. 

Then, his eyes catch on a flash from a camera. At the mouth of one of the tunnels, two teenagers sit. The boy paces back and forth, wringing his hands. The girl keeps her hand steady and points the camera at the scene, eyes narrowed and tongue starting to stick out. He’s a little stunned the golem has let them be right now.

He skids to a stop in front of them, carefully setting the injured boy down in a way his ankle sticks out. “Mind if I crash the playdate real fast?”

“What are you two doing here?” The boy crawls closer to the two of them. “Alya, Nino?”

“Someone has to be daring enough to capture the truth,” the girl (Alya) says, puffing out her chest. Then, she turns the camera off the boy and focuses it on Chat. Judging by the way her thumb turns the wheel, she’s zooming in. “Speaking of which, can I get a few words with you?”

“I’d love to, but…” Something whistles in his ear, and he whips around, baton out. A soccer net barrels at them, and he strikes it away with his baton. It hits with a sharp  _ crack  _ and the net continues to  _ fly.  _ Chat takes a moment to stare down at his arms. Since when did he get to be  _ that  _ strong? Then, he shakes his head. “Stay safe over here. TRY AND GET ME!”

“Easily!” The golem’s gaze (or what he assumes its gaze to be) fixates on Chat, and he uses his baton to launch himself into the stadium’s bleachers. He takes off running the second his feet hit the step. The golem can’t possibly move fast enough to catch him, and he needs the epic battle to go down as far away from the three people who won’t leave the stadium.

It takes Chat a moment to leave his thoughts and realize he’s  _ running on all fours.  _ He gawks at the nimble way he bounces off his hands and feet.  _ “Plagg, what the hell—” _

Then, a chunk of  _ turf  _ slams into the bottom of the bleachers, and the whole thing crumples under the weight. He yelps as his balance gets completely thrown out of the equation, and Chat cracks his forehead against the torn up metal. The world explodes into black and whirls around. Blindly, his claws scramble at metal to try and hold himself upright. The metal collapses under his weight and lets him dangle. 

When Chat’s vision clears, Stoneheart stands in front of him, chunks of turf still in his fists. “Bye bye, kitty.”

He laughs and lets go with one hand, the other wandering to the baton clipped to his belt. He extends it and explodes out of the rubble. Twisting midair, Chat strikes the golem across his face. Before he falls straight back into the mess, something thin wraps around his wrist and yanks him through the air.

Smacking into someone’s chest, he backs up and offers a lopsided smile. “Nice save, milady!”

“Sorry I’m late.” The girl stands differently now. She doesn’t tuck into herself, trying to be as small as possible. Her shoulders stand tall, and she keeps her head up. Her blue eyes twinkle underneath her mask. 

If he squints, Chat thinks literal sparks come off of her. Whether it’s the fact he just banged his head or not, she’s  _ glowing.  _ He wonders what that even means. They sparked when they first touched. Mon Dieu, does this mean he should have let Plagg explain a little more to him before he just launched him into his ring? He really didn’t get that many words get out…

Chat shrugs. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters. Now, let’s go kick that thing’s ass!”

“But… Not  _ kick,”  _ she corrects. She narrows her eyes at him before turning to him. “Didn’t you notice? He keeps getting bigger and stronger with each  _ physical  _ contact. We need something that  _ isn’t  _ physical.”

“We need to emotionally hurt it?” He stares at her.

She shakes her head. “No, we need to use our  _ powers.  _ Like… Like you have Cataclysm, which means you destroy everything you touch! And I have Lucky Charm, but I think yours probably will work better right now.”

“Okay!” Chat bounds closer to the golem on that note. He  _ definitely  _ knew about Cataclysm; he  _ definitely  _ gave Plagg enough time to explain that to him. Hopefully, this doesn’t backfire… Tonight, he’s sitting down with Plagg and making him give him some kind of user’s manual. Like a brand new phone or car.

Stoneheart roars upon seeing him and bounds closer. Chat raises his hand (because it just  _ feels  _ right. Maybe Plagg’s helping inside his suit).  _ “Cataclysm!” _

Something cold snakes through his veins, and Chat lets out a ragged gasp. His whole body pulses with the power. The power sings in his ear and starts to lure him away, away from the fight… He offers a shaky smile to the superheroine, who looks on with wide eyes, before plunging his fist into the turf. He  _ can’t  _ hold onto that.

Black phases out of his hand, and the patch closest to him turns a stark white. It starts shifting in hue, white to gray to black, before disappearing entirely in a cloud of dust. All around him, the rest of the stadium does the same. Now, they’re standing on dirt… But the disappearance is enough to get Stoneheart unbalanced and falling to his knees.

“Okay, my turn.” The girl steps forward and rests a hand on his shoulder. He smiles at her and tries to avoid the blood rushing in his head.  _ “Lucky charm!” _

Sunlight twists and glows white, expanding steadily until an outline of an object forms. Then, it lands neatly in the girl’s open hand. He leans forward to get a closer look. “That’s a… Suit?”

“Yep, I guess…” Her voice trails off as something glimmers in her eyes. She falls silent, looking around wildly. The hand on his shoulder grows warm, and he can feel the buzz of power vibrating through his suit. Whatever  _ lucky charm  _ entails, he can’t help with this part. Besides, he already destroyed the stadium… It’s probably for the best he doesn’t try and help.

She spins her yo-yo and, without even sparing it a glance, grabs a garden hose hidden towards the back of the stadium and sends it flying towards them. Chat grabs it out of the air for her. She turns to him. “Do you trust me?”

“Without a doubt.” He shifts as she drops to her knees, tying the string of her yo-yo around his feet. “Though, I have a lot of questions.”

“I’ll answer them later… Trust me.” She gives his calf a pat before rising to her feet and propelling him forward. He spins through the air, and Chat realizes seconds before hitting that he was headed straight for Stoneheart’s fist.

He wiggles around, flexing his hand against the stone. Cataclysm would come in handy right now… He wasted it just a little too soon. Now, though, the golem sways as he tries to work out a way to climb to his feet without using his hands. He supposes he did help, even if it’s not as impressive as the superheroine.

Just  _ thinking  _ about her sends a chill down his spine. They’re going to be an amazing duo; he can sense it.

The girl backs up before running forward, springing herself at the golem. “Catch me if you can!”

Stoneheart grunts, maneuvering himself around to catch her. As he does so, a piece of paper flutters to the ground. He squints at it, and it flashes a deep purple in response. Chat leans back, the plan starting to become clearer in his head. Whoever the villain is, they’re using that piece of paper… That’s why she needed both of his hands full—

“Nino, the tap!” 

The hose splutters to life inside Stoneheart’s fist, and he can feel it swelling against his feet. Then, it bursts out to smack the golem in the face, who roars and shakes his head. The water droplets fly off him and land into Chat’s hair, and he hisses. 

Stoneheart opens both his fists at the same time, and both of them lunge towards the paper. She reaches it first and rips it in two. A dark purple moth emerges from it, glowing in the sunlight, and starts fluttering towards the sky.

Chat whistles. “Never seen anything like  _ that  _ before.”

“It’s a day of firsts,” she agrees. “Ti—My  _ kwami  _ told me that it’s an akuma… Oh, wow, you look dry.”

“Sarcasm is a low blow.” He quips before sticking out his fist. “First day of superhero-ing went well, I’d say.”

“Agreed.” She brushes her fist against his.

“Pound it!”

-

Marinette flops down on her bed, exhausted. Tikki, fresh off eating bakery cookies, curls into her shoulder and watches as Marinette unlocks her phone and holds it close enough for both to see. Alya already texted her to look up the “ladyblog,” and Marinette has a feeling she knows exactly what that entails.

“Oh, wow,” Marinette breathes out.

Tikki gasps. “They’ve never done  _ this  _ before.”

“Alya really caught some great footage.” She presses the first video and watches the ‘after-the-fight interview’ play out. Honestly, it wasn’t that interesting. Both of them needed to run off shortly after the fight ended, but Alya insisted she got something for the rest of the world. She thrust her microphone attachment, and Chat shrugged and took it.

In the video, she’s staring at him like he holds all the answers. A blush races across her face, and Marinette averts her gaze. Sure, Chat was bold and fearless and had the qualities she lacked… And sure, he was definitely toned, but… Well, Marinette doesn’t need to answer that. She was just tired after a fight.

_ Chat beamed at the camera, definitely playing up his playful side. “Well, good morning, Vietnam!” _

_ She elbowed him in the ribs after that, and he laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I got excited. Thank God I got my bugaboo to keep me on track.” _

_ “Speaking of that,” Alya asked, off camera, “‘bugaboo’ doesn’t seem like an official name. Do you guys have any sort of official names for the public to call you? Some sort of alias to keep your identities safe… Unless, of course, you want to share them?” _

_ “Nope!” Marinette said, not allowing Chat a chance to say anything. She cleared her throat. “I’m… Call me Ladybug.” _

_ “And I’m Chat Noir!” _

After that, the video cuts off, and Marinette grins. She keeps scrolling down the page, staring at different photos and videos Alya edited and posted tonight. “Tikki, is Ladybug a good name?”

“Yeah! I really like it, and it suits you, Marinette.” Tikki nestles deeply into her shoulder, and Marinette sighs.

Then, she lets out a long breath. “I’m so tired.”

At the corner of the screen, something strange appears on the news feed. She bites on her lip before clicking on it and letting it expand across the screen. Stoneheart might be gone, he turned into Ivan after she released the akuma, but various stone creatures rest across the city… Miniature versions of Stoneheart.

She turns the volume up all the way on her phone, and Nadja’s voice seeps across the room.  _ “Just as Paris is about to celebrate the appearance of our two new superheroes, Ladybug and Chat Noir, a new wave of panic is sweeping across the capital as dozens of people are mysteriously transformed into stone monsters. It’s simply unbelievable.” _

Tikki zips up and gets as close to the phone screen as possible. “Did you purify the akuma?”

“Purify…?” Marinette’s heart starts pounding in her chest, louder than anything else. She pushes straight up and stares at Tikki. She just let the butterfly go. She doesn’t even  _ know  _ where the butterfly went! She just assumed it… She just assumed that’s all she needed to do. After all, Ivan came back. “Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no—”

“Hey, it’s okay!” Tikki reaches out, but Marinette dives out of her reach. “We can go back out, right now, and figure out where the butterfly went… Wait, what are you doing? Marinette, it’s fine, I promise, everyone messes up the first time out.”

“No, no,  _ no.”  _ Marinette gropes at her ears and blinks past the tears spilling over her cheeks. “It’s been one day, and I couldn’t do it! We only saved  _ Ivan,  _ but look at everyone else! How is this even happening?”

Tikki hesitates. “Well… An akuma can multiply. If it’s not purified… All the stone beings will be under Stoneheart’s control.”

“But Stoneheart’s gone.” Her voice wavers, and that’s her last plea. If she didn’t save Ivan, then what does that mean? It means she helped nobody. It means everything Chat and her did today means absolutely nothing!

The kwami pauses. “It’s just… If Ivan gets too negative once more, then the akuma will come back and retransform him into Stoneheart—”

“I screwed  _ everything  _ up!” wails Marinette. 

Tikki shakes her head. “It’s fine! We can fix this!”

“I  _ can’t  _ be the one who fixes this!” she says instead. “I knew it. I knew I wasn’t cut out to be a superhero. And I knew I couldn’t  _ do  _ it, and I just made everything worse!”

“Marinette, you didn’t—”

“There are so many better people than me, Tikki! You can find someone better…  _ Anyone  _ would be better.” And before Tikki can try and talk her out of it, Marinette reaches up and unclips the earrings.

-

Plagg keeps darting in and out of Adrien’s hair, making it stick up in every direction. He laughs and swats at his kwami. “Plagg,  _ please,  _ I’m trying to find a way to get you Camembert! I just need to text the chefs.”

“Who has  _ chefs  _ when they’re this young?” Plagg snorts and then nips him on his ear. 

Adrien yelps and tries to grabs him. “I do! It’s better than if I didn’t! How would I be able to get anything? This is kinda expensive—”

“Right, right, that’s why I picked a rich snob.” He floats out in front of Adrien and offers a lazy smirk. Adrien pouts in response before grabbing his phone. He also needs to unlock his door at some point to allow for the Camembert… And Felix… to come into his room. Adrien isn’t sure how  _ that  _ arrangement is going to go down.

Before he even unlocks his phone, he notes the text from Chloe at the top. He swipes it down and stares at it for several moments. 

**Chloe:** OMG!

**Chloe:** Look at the news!!! Now!!!

Adrien pulls back from his phone, making a face, before bounding over to his TV display. Knowing Felix, he still has the news channel playing. After all, that’s who Felix is… Someone who watches the news unironically.

He only watches one moment before spinning around to find Plagg. “I thought we won!”

“You thought  _ what?”  _ Plagg zips forward and lands in Adrien’s hair. “Oh, well, did your Ladybug purify the akuma?”

“Purify… The… Akuma…?” Adrien shakes his head. “Shit.”

-

“They messed up,” Felix grouches as he watches the computer screen. Since Adrien  _ refuses  _ to unlock the bedroom door, he retreated to the ‘study room’ meant specifically for the twins. Now, he plays on the computer screen with his friend resting right beside the keyboard. 

Duusu blinks at him, furious. “Which is why I wanted  _ you  _ to go out as well! It’s the honorable thing to do!”

“If I followed what  _ honor  _ was,” Felix reminds Duusu, fiddling with the brooch pinned to his tie, “I wouldn’t even have you.”

The peacock kwami lunges forward and bites him hard on the collarbone. Felix sighs and swats Duusu away, used to his dramatics by now. Duusu is so  _ overemotional.  _ Most of the time, he’ll start crying for absolutely no reason. Not wanting to go out in scanty spandex to solve crime doesn’t exactly seem like a bad thing. It seems like a perfectly reasonable thing that Duusu should respect.

Duusu glowers at Felix. “What will it take for you to go out as my wielder?”

“Nothing because I’m never going to do it,” Felix tells him before pushing to his feet and walking back towards his bedroom. Surely, since he knows Adrien will have arrived back from his…  _ Trip,  _ Adrien will have unlocked the door.

Something lights up on Duusu’s face. “Well, you love your brother, don’t you?” 

“Are you blackmailing me?” he counters. It seems pretty clear to Felix Duusu wants to manipulate him into doing what he wants, one way or another. Bringing Adrien into it, though, is a low blow… A blow he can’t even imagine why Duusu would try. However, Duusu just offers a grin and dives into his school bag.

He’s almost inside the room, almost has his hand on the doorknob, when he hears voices within. Maybe Gabriel came back for round two, knowing Adrien will be a lot more submissive when Felix isn’t there. He definitely wouldn’t put it past his father.

Adrien’s voice sounds… Excited though. “Wait, so you’re saying I have to go back out with Ladybug again?”

“Ew,” an unfamiliar voice chides, “puppy love isn’t for us.”

He knew Adrien was Chat Noir; he didn’t need this additional confirmation. From the second Chat Noir appeared on the screen, he could see every feature of his brother. He panicked originally, asking Duusu how he could be so recklessly. However, Duusu reminded him all peacock wielders see nothing but the  _ truth.  _ Chat Noir is destruction, Ladybug is creation… And a peacock is the truth. 

But…

But if Adrien is in love with Ladybug, then Adrien is all sorts of screwed. No wonder Duusu got so excited. He can’t trust this ‘Ladybug’ to keep his brother safe. She’ll probably get him hurt more, no matter how unintentional, since Adrien will try and act like a human shield for anyone he cares about.

Duusu peeks out. “You’re in now, aren’t you?”

Felix growls. “Fine, fine. I’ll consider it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the major problems I had writing this is that I feel like Felix, Marinette, and Nino came across as really unlikeable? Maybe that's just me, and maybe I'm just being way too critical. So, please comment below on how that could improve, but if I didn't post it now, I would have just kept coming back and forth on this haha.


	2. Origins Pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand we're back! That's the end of chapter one of this series. Right now, it tentatively has 27 chapters, which would take me like half a year to finish (especially if I publish once a week). But, not to shamelessly ask for feedback, but feedback is a good motivator!

Marinette rips another piece of paper out of her sketchbook, wadding up the original. She reaches past the Chinese box to the pencil holder. Her stomach tosses as she stares at it, and she twists the tips of her ponytail. “I’m so sorry, Tikki. But you know… I’m not the kind of person you want. I hope you can understand that. Maybe, in the long run, it’ll all work out as it should.”

The box remains still, lifeless. She glances away from it and back to the piece of paper. The first part of the plan sits inside her sketchbook, pencil shavings and eraser smudges rife across the page. Marinette couldn’t see any other option though. 

She’ll give the Miraculous to Alya. Alya will be fearless and courageous and bold, all qualities Marinette lacks. Tikki will find the person she needs, and Paris will get the hero she needs. After all…

Marinette clicks on the lower right-hand corner of the screen, pulling up the news stream one last time. She’s watched it throughout the night. Considering they chose to run a 24-hour stream, she had no other option but to watch it. 

This time, Andre Bourgeois stands on a platform, Officer Roger on his right side. Officer Roger wears a chunky cast around his arm, and when she squints at the screen, she can just make out Sabrina’s name at the bottom. It’s the only part of the livestream which makes her smile… She wouldn’t be shocked if Chloe’s name joins in later on. 

Andre clears his voice, and the speech comes out too practiced, too rehearsed. Somebody wrote that script for him, especially after the whole Stoneheart disaster. “We won’t stop until we find a way to get these people back to their normal selves, but for now, we’re not making much headway.”

“Of course they’re not making much headway,” Marinette whispers. Her eyes find the box once more, and somehow the conversation is between the two of them… Despite the fact she knows Tikki will never respond. “They need Ladybug and Chat Noir to save the day… And I’m going to go out and get them a Ladybug!”

Closing out of the browser before Nadja Chamack can reappear on the screen, Marinette throws on her white hoodie. Then, she throws open the trap door to her room and rushes down to their living room… Where her parents intently stare at the TV screen, Nadja still speaking.

She sighs, loud enough to get her dad’s attention. Tom turns around and smiles. “Sweetie, don’t worry about this.”

“I know, Dad. We just need to give it time, and the superheroes will come back…” Marinette pauses. “Do you think… What if Ladybug fails? She failed before already.”

“I—” Tom takes a second before his eyes twinkle. “Didn’t you used to watch superhero movies with Nino and Bridgette? You three always made me drive you to the movie theater after all.”

“Well, yeah—”

“And did Bug-Man succeed right away? Or did he have to fail a few times to get the knack for it? If you succeed the first time, it’s lucky. But if you succeed after you try? It means you’ll succeed a million times after.” He nods, and Sabine giggles from his side. She tucks herself closer; Marinette averts her gaze. 

Then, she nods. “Bridgette would kill you for calling him Bug-Man instead of… Uh… Any of the bug-related superheroes.”

“There’s a lot of them. How do you expect me to remember them?” Leaning forward, Tom flicks her on the forehead. When she pretends to be affronted, clutching her heart, he leans forward and kisses her there instead. “Now, do you want an escort to school today? If you’re feeling unsafe…”

“No, no!” Marinette feels her face flooding with heat at the idea. If she drags her father out with her, then the bakery will open later than usual. And when they lose business today, they’ll blame her. And then they’ll ostracize her and kick her out of the house, and she’ll have to apply for independence…

He tilts his head. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah! I can…” Right before she needs to search for some kind of excuse, her phone rings. She digs it out and flashes the screen at him. “Look, look! I can talk to Bridgette while I walk, so it’s alright. I’m never scared when she’s on the line with me.”

“Okay.” Sabine leans over the edge of the couch and places another kiss on her cheek. “Have fun, sweetie, and be safe.”

“Thanks, Maman. Love you! Love you too, Dad!” As Marinette heads out the door, she unlocks her phone and accepts the call. She presses speakerphone right as she pushes open the door. “Bridgette!”

“Why didn’t you call me  _ last night?”  _ Bridgette shrieks. She sits in her bedroom, hair a mess around her face and pajamas rumpled around her shoulders. “You have real-life superheroes! In Paris! Did you see them?”

“No, I was in my room the whole time… I wanted to stay safe, you know.” She laughs awkwardly.

Bridgette responds by narrowing her eyes before shrugging. “That’s fine. It’s fine. I just… Did you see that  _ Ladyblog?  _ It’s going around on Twitter, and it has some  _ great  _ footage.”

“I wasn’t really watching it this morning. I was a little spooked, you know? I just…” She shrugs as she searches for the words. How can she explain to Bridgette that she knows exactly what Ladybug did? The problem is, if she agrees that she watched the videos, she might know too much. If she slips up and says something Ladybug did that  _ wasn’t  _ on video, Bridgette might connect the dots.

Which would make it even more awkward when she gives it to Alya. If Bridgette was around, Marinette wouldn’t hesitate to give the earrings to her. After all, she’d understand what a hero needs to be, and she’d do it without skipping a beat. 

Shifting on her bed, her cousin shakes her head. “You gotta watch it! It’s incredible… Nothing like we have here in California. And, fingers crossed, they’ll still be around when I come to stay in France!”

“Fingers crossed!” Marinette hesitates before sighing. “I should probably hang up and start going to school.”

Bridgette pouts. “Fine. But update me on the superheroes! I’ll call you tonight, okay? I heard Paris still is looking pretty scary.”

“You got it.” The second she hangs up, her whole body sags with relief. Lying to Bridgette is going to be hard… It’s a good thing she’s giving up the Miraculous.

-

This time, Felix will gladly cover for his twin. At the very least, he can stop listening to the sound of Ladybug’s voice in their room, over and over again. He knows Adrien tends to obsess over any small failures; despite the fact he considers himself easy-going, he’s too much of a perfectionist to be considered that. The fact Stoneheart still rampages made for a restless night in their room.

Adrien sits at the computer desk, tugging on his running shoes again. Felix glances pointedly back at his tablet. He swipes through each of the forms and the calendars, trying to pick out the next assignment. His father gave him all the bare necessities to plan a fashion competition… But he didn’t give him any sort of direction. 

He nudges Duusu from where he hides in the folds of his pillow. “What are you thinking? I’m leaning between a design-your-own and a modeling competition. But I genuinely hate models, so…”

“Derby hats!” Duusu flies out of the pillow before Felix smacks him back down. 

Adrien looks over the second after Duusu gets hidden. “What was that, Fe?”

“I… Ugh.” He shoots Duusu a dirty look, and the kwami gives a smug look before diving underneath the sheets. “I was thinking the competition should be to design derby hats. I’d give about an eight-hour deadline, see how fast they could work under the pressure.”

“Eight hours? That’s ridiculous.” Adrien straightens, casting an incredulous look in his direction.

Felix shrugs. “Gabriel wants the competition to be hosted in two days’ time. If I don’t have a lot of time, then they certainly don’t. And I still need to figure out some sort of prize for winning the competition.”

“Oh, yeah. Um…” Bouncing on his heels, his twin looks down at his neon shoes for a second too long. Then, he looks up. “Derby hats?”

“Promising, right?” Felix taps on his tablet, pulling up a photo for him. He doubts Adrien can recall the different types of hats on command. 

He laughs in response. “I have no clue.”

“You’re a model.”

“Yeah, I just  _ wear  _ the clothes…” Adrien freezes before bouncing onto Felix’s bed. Felix resists the urge to laugh as Duusu flies closer to him. “Wait, I know exactly what the prize can be! I’ll model whatever hat wins! It’s an easy thing to arrange, and it won’t cost any money… It’ll just cost my time!”

“Is that so?” He smirks.

Adrien nods. “Yeah! It’s only fair… You’re covering for me today, and I’ll cover for you later. Unless, of course, you want to… Come with me? Then nobody needs to cover for anyone, and we can both go to school! I might have already registered you online, but it doesn’t matter that much because it still needs Father’s permission to be official, and he won’t approve it until I go for at least one day and pressure him into it—”

“I think I’m going to enjoy a day of peace and quiet. And anyway, you’re not going to impress anyone if I’m there. I’m dressed to the nines… You’re dressed very subpar today. I’m assuming you’ll fit in better this way.” He lifts an eyebrow, waiting for the insult to start to sink in. 

It does, and Adrien whirls around. “I think I look nice!”

“You look nice because you’re a model. Your fashion sense is a little abysmal.” He gives a deliberately sweeping glance over his body, and Adrien hugs himself to avoid the gaze. All of the clothes Adrien dons are rather bland, and even with his natural tendency to pose and flex, it doesn’t let him stand out all that much.

Felix pushes to his feet and forces Adrien to do the same. Then, he rolls up his brother’s sleeves and pops the collar. Glancing back, Felix shrugs. “This is the best I’m going to be able to do for you. I literally cannot make you look any better.”

“Hey!” He swats him away. Then, Adrien pauses before pouncing on Felix, ruffling his hair until it sticks up in every direction. Felix lets out a disgruntled snort before pushing him away. He knows he must look like Chat Noir now… After all, all Chat Noir needs to do to differentiate himself from Adrien is muss his hair. 

Trying to take the fondness out of his gaze, he gives Adrien a stern look. “I’d stop doing that, or I’ll sell you out to Gabriel.”

“Would you?” Adrien crosses the room and throws on his backpack. Felix pauses to take in the rather hideous sight. On the black backpack, a little too big and a little too puffy and a little too old, someone hung buttons and pins galore. Some of them advertise bands he’s yet to hear of, and he can pick out at least  _ two  _ of them for Jagged Stone… But Jagged Stone of the early days when he was a teenager. 

He clears his throat to ask where he found it because it  _ certainly  _ doesn’t suit Gabriel’s brand of fashion, but Adrien offers a charming grin. “I found it up in the attic! I don’t know whose it is, but I dusted off the cobwebs.”

“The attic?” He shakes his head slightly. “Thought Father didn’t want you up there.”

The attic holds all kinds of secrets. Felix and Adrien snuck up there twice before, but every time they made it past the ladder, Adrien would start panicking over the smallest of shadows, terrified of letting down Gabriel. Felix started sneaking up there on his own accord to just escape the rest of the family.

His hand drifts to where Duusu rests. He might be a  _ tad  _ more familiar with the attic than Adrien, and he might be a  _ tad  _ riskier when it comes to stealing. 

Adrien nods. “Yeah, but I’m also not supposed to be at school! I might as well pull out all the stops, right?”

“Famous last words, Adrien. I’d head out before somebody swings by to check on us.” Felix doesn’t budge as Adrien gives him one last wave before bursting out of the room. He hears the loud footsteps, racing through the house. Good. Adrien knows Gabriel watches the cameras today, more than any other time, to guarantee neither of them leaves. Sneaking around will lead to him being caught; running, on the other hand, is the best way to get out.

Duusu flies out and lands on his shoulder. “We should have gone with. I miss the  _ dramatics  _ of school, I miss learning how to juggle school and being a superhero. Oh, and the near-misses when a classmate almost catches you transform.”

“And you want that?”

“Well, we’ll never  _ be  _ caught.” Duusu puffs out his chest. “The two of us are going to be amazing at our jobs. Just think about it, Felix. Next time… Let’s go to school.”

“I’m thinking about it, and I think… I’m going to pass.”

-

Deep down, Adrien understands he needs sleep to survive. When he dove under his covers, though, he found himself staring at his ring. He’s a  _ superhero.  _ Well… He’s been a superhero for about sixteen hours, and now serious questions start to bubble to the top. How does he perfect this? How does he get good at this? How does he… The thing with the wetsuit was utter brilliance, and he still doesn’t know how she connected those pieces so fast.

The second he ducked into the alleyway, he transformed and sprinted to the top of Chloe’s hotel. He transformed back just as fast to start rummaging through the backpack (that he’s 90% sure belongs to his mother, who he never met).

Unlike what he told Felix, the backpack wasn’t  _ completely  _ empty when he dug it out around 4 am. It holds a single spiral notebook, which he runs his hands over reverently. The binding starts to come undone, and some pages peek out in the corner, filled with neat, black ink. His handwriting doesn’t resemble that, but the neat rows remind him of Felix.

Before he takes the plunge and opens it, Plagg rushes forward and nudges his hand. “You’ve been holding out on me!”

“What are you talking about… Oh…” Adrien watches as Plagg makes a big deal, sniffing around his backpack and encroaching on the bag where he stashed his lunch. It’s one thing to sneak away from home to go to public school. It’s another to defy the strict diet regulations his father put him on. 

Right as Plagg almost figures it out, Adrien tosses aside the notebook and pulls the backpack into his lap. “No, no, no, you  _ can’t.  _ The chefs are going to think I’m going insane if I keep requesting Camembert. We gotta  _ ration  _ it!”

“Just tell the truth.” Plagg paws at the pocket, cocking his head slightly. Adrien tries to keep his best poker face on, but he knows he sucks ass at lying. “You suddenly got better taste.”

Then, his kwami phases through the fabric of his backpack. Adrien yelps and backpedals as fast as possible. When could he do  _ that?  _ A second later, Plagg peeks out with his paws sunk deeply into a small chunk of Camembert cheese. He offers a toothy smile before tossing it back with only one swallow. 

“Can you  _ do  _ that?” Adrien gapes at him.

He shrugs. “I just did, so obviously. Really playing into that dumb blond stereotype, huh.”

“Ouch.” He clutches at his heart and falls over himself, and Plagg laughs before flattening himself on the backpack. Adrien laughs and runs a hand through his hair before sitting upright. “I don’t have a lot of time left before school. Stop distracting me.”

“You’re distracting yourself.” He flips over and starts sunbathing in the light. Reaching over, Adrien pats him on his head before pulling the notebook into his lap. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to steel himself.

Written on the back of the cover, he reads his mom’s name in her neat handwriting, her  _ impossibly  _ neat handwriting. She wrote in a bright green pen. His father never would have done that. Adrien wouldn’t  _ dare  _ to show his father anything he wrote in green pen… It’d just be embarrassing for him.

**_Emelie Graham de Vanily._ **

“Graham de Vanily?” he whispers. Since Emelie died early in their lives, Gabriel cut off all contact with her family. He never thought to ask what his mother’s maiden name was; she was always an Agreste. Learning anything else rattles him. The common link between them rests in their shared last name, their shared eye color, and the ‘shared smile’ photographers occasionally comment on. 

Plagg snorts. “I wouldn’t want that one.”

“Want that last name?” he asks, and Plagg nods in response. Adrien sits back for a second and mouths the combination.  _ Adrien Graham de Vanily.  _ Who would he be if he had been a Graham de Vanily? Who would he be if he was close with that side of the family?

_ Who would he be if his mom had been the one who survived? _

A weight settles in his hair, and he startles. During the day, he discovered Plagg’s favorite resting spot is deep within Adrien’s hair. “Calm down, kid. I can hear the gears in your brain whirling, and you’re not even at school yet. You’re going to end up exhausting yourself.”

“It’s just… Interesting to play what if’s,” he finally says.

The kwami falls silent for a moment. “This isn’t en route to the school, you know.”

“I know.” Something in him called him here though. He dedicated most of his childhood to this hotel. Back when Felix wanted to play all the time, back when Chloe was a little less crude and a little more sunshiney, they’d play on the balcony he can see right below him. No matter which parent had been the one who leaves (the Bourgeoises always had a reason to leave, and his father kept to the same tendencies), the three of them forgot about that and made their own family.

His mother never saw it; his father said that once in a passing remark to Mrs. Bourgeoise. Adrien likes to think she would have adored it. Felix snuck movies of hers into their room for their birthday last year, and he drank in every time she appeared onscreen. He doesn’t care it was a character and not his mom. She still seemed like someone who would adore the way the light and the sunshine mixes into one atop this hotel, welcoming everyone here.

Adrien flips the notebook shut before even attempting the first page. “Okay, okay, you’re right. I need to get going to school, and I need to stop thinking about sad stuff. I didn’t risk my life to be sad.”

“Risking your life seems a tad extreme.” Plagg rolls over in his hair, and Adrien lets out a surprised laugh. “I think you’ll probably just get a stern talking to… Then again, I’d rather  _ die  _ than deal with that.”

“Good thing we won’t have to. They’ll understand.” Adrien leaves the  _ ‘I hope’  _ unspoken, though he’s sure they both felt the presence of the words nonetheless. Shoving the notebook back into his backpack, he slings it over his shoulder and climbs to his feet. There isn’t any more time to waste (though he wouldn’t consider this a waste of a morning. Everyone else in his house might, but he wouldn’t). 

His kwami sighs. “I can feel the anxiety coming off of you. We can always go back to your house and take a  _ long  _ nap. That’d be more fun than school.”

“Tempting, but…” Adrien shakes his head, trying to clear away any lingering sadness over any thought of his mother. Plagg curses before floating in front of him, eyes clinging to his ring. “Plagg, claws out!”

-

As Marinette plops down in her seat, Alya slides her phone across the tabletop. Picking it up without a second thought, Marinette squints at the bright lights. Then, a smile plays at her lips. “I saw this last night! I mean, well, I didn’t have any time to watch the videos, but just the design is so sleek! And the Ladyblog? It works  _ so  _ well.”

“Me and Nino are officially the team behind the Ladyblog, the blog bringing you all the latest news about the  _ coolest  _ superhero, Ladybug!” Alya glances over at Nino, who’s watching from across the room. He finger-guns back at her, and she smiles down at her phone. 

Marinette jabs her in the ribs. “Ladybug isn’t really the cool one. She’s… she couldn’t even complete her job. And Chat Noir did so much better than her last night!”

“Excuse me?” She raises an eyebrow before opening the top video. Marinette knows she’ll have to watch it, pretending that she hasn’t clicked through every frame, trying to summon a better hero than the person she was last night. “I know you just said you haven’t watched the videos yet, but she’s a  _ badass.” _

“But what if she’s not cut out for it?” Marinette argues.

Alya speeds through the video as quickly as possible before reaching the end of the fight. Marinette grabs her arm before she can reach whatever she wanted. When she watched it last night, she kept returning to this spot. “What happened to your camera there?”

“I don’t know. I guess Cataclysm can’t be caught on camera.” Making a face down at the screen, Alya pauses to study the freezeframe. Unlike every other part of the video, consumed with almost too vibrant photos, this part lapses entirely into black. She can’t begin to see past the thick color, even though Marinette knows it didn’t look like that in person. The video can’t capture the way the hair on the back of her neck rose, though, and the way she hugged herself to stay warm.

Shaking her head, her friend flips to the end. “I’m not going to get into magical logistics. Just… Look at this and  _ tell  _ me they don’t have a chance to fix everything.”

And on the screen, Ladybug squares up and tosses her yo-yo high into the air. She looks more sophisticated than Marinette ever has, more confident. The way she grinned spoke levels of the way her heart pounded a rhythm in her head. Originally, it bled with fear, but it started to bleed with something close to ecstasy. Her heart  _ screamed  _ for her to be the hero of the story, not the damsel in distress.

Underneath the table, Marinette traces mindless circles with the tip of her sneakers. “She looks so happy.”

“She looks so  _ fearless. _ She’s a true superhero.” Alya sighs and retreats back inside her head. As Alya takes in the screen, eyes soft with awe, Marinette glances at her bag, dangling off the back of her chair. Yesterday, Marinette was everything  _ but  _ fearless, but considering how Alya fled to the scene with her camera at the ready, she certainly could be considered fearless… The very quality Alya defines Ladybug with. 

She’ll be a great Ladybug.

Right as Marinette starts to reach into Alya’s bag, the door to the classroom flies open. Alix holds it, letting Kim crutch past. He stops and stares at the bottom of the steps, pulling a face. Alix slips by his side. “C’mon, wimp, are you gonna go up or not?”

“I will.” Kim takes a deep breath, and Marinette hops to her feet, ready to help him.

Shortly after, before the door can even slam shut, Ivan walks in, flanked by Juleka and Rose. Rose’s squeaky voice rings out higher than anything else. “I can’t believe you don’t remember anything! That was so… Much!”

“You were so ballistic.” Juleka lets a smug smile flit across her face. “It was wicked.”

“Way wicked!” Rose chimes in.

Kim clears his throat, and Marinette steps back. “Wicked? He was seriously out to crush me.”

“Well, you know, it  _ will  _ be wicked.” Alix hops onto Kim’s table, ignoring Max’s indignant squawk in return. She cocks her head and makes wide eyes at Kim. “You know, when we lose  _ every  _ fencing tournament because Ivan benched our second-best player. We barely have a full team already.”

Ivan’s cheeks start to flush dark red as Kim and Alix glare daggers into him. When he settles down in his seat, right behind where Chloe will sit, he ducks his head. Marinette can feel the embarrassment coming off him in waves, but she doesn’t get to reassure him… Kim drops a crutch and swears, and she bends over frantically to pick it up for him.

Chloe’s foot nearly slams against her fingers, but Marinette pulls back in time. Chloe copies Alix’s position on the table, but she crosses her legs delicately. “I mean, are we really shocked? Ivan’s always had a bit of a temper problem. I guess his  _ true  _ colors just came to light. Once a monster, always a monster.”

“The only monster here is you,” snaps Alya, pushing to her feet. The chair crashes as she stands upright, and Marinette flinches from the noise. Her grip on the crutch slips. 

Ivan slowly shakes his head, blinking at them. “No, don’t defend me. She’s right.”

“Of course she’s not right.” Alya starts to say, but Ivan gets to his feet and lumbers out of the room. Marinette springs to her feet, stumbling straight into the table, before pressing the crutch in Kim’s hand. Then, she manages to sprint out of the classroom to chase after Ivan. Someone has to.

She clears her throat. “Ivan! Ivan, wait!”

“What do you want, Marinette?” He collapses down on the bench, covering his face. She eases down next to him, bumping their knees together. She and Ivan could never be considered close. The two of them just never… Bonded, she supposes. While Marinette tried to be friends with most of the class, he always remained out of her grip.

He didn’t remain out of  _ someone’s  _ grip though. “I understand you don’t want to talk to anyone, and I understand you might not trust me. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But I just want you to know that you should talk to  _ someone.  _ Because that wasn’t your fault. Becoming a supervillain because  _ who knows  _ why? It wasn’t your fault.”

“Who would I talk to?” Ivan asks, voice surprisingly fragile.

She pauses. “Mylene.”

“What?” His head snaps up, and she throws her hands up instinctively. He stares at her. Her lips slowly pull into a shaky smile while her palms tremble. That was the  _ worst  _ thing to do. She’s not scared of him, but… 

Well, maybe she is. A little. But that’s less important. “I think you should go for it, Ivan. Just… Stay positive. You got people in your corner.”

-

Chloe’s phone buzzes, and she leaves the class abuzz about Ivan. She can’t look at him unless she knows she has people in her corner… Chloe would never confront him on her own. While she’s known him for many,  _ many  _ years, look at what he was capable of yesterday! Look at all the destruction he wrought! She doesn’t care that he  _ reformed  _ and  _ transformed  _ back; he almost destroyed Paris with his temper tantrum.

He almost destroyed Kim, and no matter her personal feelings on the jock who keeps flirting with her, she knows he doesn’t deserve to die. 

Still, all the negative thoughts float out of her head as her childhood friend darts through the door. He slows to a stop with practiced ease, bouncing right in front of her. She wrinkles her nose on instinct. Adrien made some…  _ Questionable  _ fashion choices today. The fact every move he makes gets punctuated by the clattering of the buttons on his backpack? She  _ personally  _ wouldn’t make the choice.

“Someone finally escaped his tower!” she singsongs, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. Chloe makes sure everyone watches as she embraces him tightly.

Adrien lets out a startled laugh in her ear. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting such a… Warm welcome!”

“Anything for my  _ Adrikins.”  _ Chloe nuzzles his cheek in the hug before placing a wet kiss there. Then, she pulls back and grabs his hand. The whole time, she feels Adrien forcing himself to relax under her embrace. God knows the Agrestes aren’t very touchy-feely people, but she imagines Adrien would flower with hugs and fleeting touches given the chance. “Come on, let me show you the classroom. The school’s big enough for someone to get lost in on his  _ first day ever.” _

“Thank you, Chlo.” The childhood nickname slips off his tongue easily, and Chloe squeezes his hand a little too tight. Nobody calls her  _ Chlo  _ anymore. It’s immature in comparison to her full name… Then again, though, Adrikins stems from their childhood too. She’ll let this one go. Besides, it makes them that much cuter to the public.

She clears her throat as they approach her classroom…  _ Their  _ classroom. “So, where’s Felix lurking?”

“No, I haven’t quite swayed him there yet. He’s coming around, though.” Adrien grins as she shoves him through the door. Since his attention remains solely on her (his attention always goes a little one-track when he talks about Felix), he doesn’t note the fact that everyone in the room starts gawking at him. “I’m going to get him to come one of these days, Chlo. I’m confident—”

“You know Adrien  _ Agreste?”  _ squeals Sabrina, just as they rehearsed yesterday. 

Adrien freezes before turning and offering a meek wave. Before she can steer him to the seat right in front of hers, Alix bounds down and pulls him forward. “Oh,  _ fuck  _ yeah, I knew you were  _ that  _ Agreste!”

“What?” Adrien laughs sheepishly as she drags him over to where Kim sits. 

Kim leans forward. “You’re joining the fencing team, right? We’ve  _ all  _ seen the videos of you in professional tournaments. We’ve never been good enough to go to nationals, but with you at our side…”

“Kim might be bumped to a third-place fencer,” Alix adds.

Kim makes a face before flexing his muscles. Chloe fights not to roll her eyes as she slips in between them, trying to drag Adrien back to where he belongs. By  _ her.  _ “I’m the  _ first- _ place fencer. I’m going to wipe the floor with blondie’s ass!”

“I never stood a chance.” Adrien offers a shy smile.

Chloe leans forward and squeezes Adrien’s bicep. “Oh, Adrikins,  _ please,  _ you don’t need to make him feel better about himself. Stop being humble. He’s a million times stronger than you… I would know.”

“Chloe,” he whispers underneath his breath, a sharp warning entering his voice. Chloe knows Adrien wouldn’t lay a finger on her, physically or emotionally. He’s far too nice for his own good. Sometimes, she just wonders if she needs to tell him to toughen up. Other times, she just acts mean on his behalf.

She ignores him. “Besides, will you even be at fencing tryouts? After all, Ivan dashed those hopes when he decimated your ankle. You can barely walk, sweetheart-”

“If it heals accordingly, he’ll be able to rejoin the team well before tryouts!” Max interrupts shrilly. 

Chloe nods. “Glad you got your attack dog lined up.”

“I think!” Adrien blurts, louder than anyone else. When their eyes all turn to him, he offers a sheepish smile. “I think that, uh, I should go find my seat. It was great meeting you two… Uh, I didn’t catch your names though.”

“Max.” And he looks a little  _ too  _ grateful at the save Adrien provides. She wants to slap the relief off his face.

Kim winks. “Kim. Remember that name when I kick your ass at tryouts.”

“I will!” Adrien offers a crooked smile, and Chloe pulls him back towards the front row seat. She knows that he likes sitting front and center. The few times he’s been to conferences and meetings, he always claims a front seat because Felix read something about “proximity to the teacher equating to level of comprehension”... Whatever the hell that means.

Patting on the table, Chloe ignores how Nino slips off his headphones. “Look! I saved you a seat even though you couldn’t make it yesterday! It’s right in front of me, so I’ll be able to help you whenever… And we’ll be able to catch up since I feel like I haven’t seen you in  _ forever,  _ Adrien!”

“Thanks, Chlo.” Adrien’s voice comes softer and more muted than when he spoke with Kim. Chloe prickles with jealousy before shoving it away. Of course, he likes new people; who doesn’t like shiny objects? In the end, though, she’ll outshine any of her other classmates in his eyes.

While Adrien and Nino strike up a hesitant conversation, she nods at Sabrina. The two of them walk over to where Marinette and the new girl have been sitting. Pulling the gum out of her mouth, she slaps it against the bench. Sabrina executes the same move on the other side where the new girl will sit. 

On the other side of her, Adrien and Nino’s stilted conversation ends. “Chloe, what are you doing?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Adrikins.” She straightens and walks over to Miss Bustier’s desk, squirting hand sanitizer. “It’s for their own good.”

-

Nino sits, an amused smile starting to play at his lips. When he first heard Chloe was bringing her ‘childhood best friend’ to class, he assumed they’d get some playboy. Alya researched him last night when he went over to her house to work on the Ladyblog; a model didn’t seem much better.

This kid, though, seems to be a weird remix of Marinette. He’s not the most confident, but his friendliness seeps off of him. Even now, as Adrien fumbles to find a tissue box in the classroom to pick off the gum (Miss Bustier hasn’t broken them out since flu season hasn’t begun), he wants to do the right thing. He also argues with Chloe the entire time, who looks very unimpressed he’s ruining her plans.

Right as Adrien places the tissue box on the table and rips one out, the door opens. Marinette pauses in the doorway and furrows her brow. “Um, what are you doing?”

“What the  _ hell  _ are you doing?” Alya ignores Marinette’s original question and gets into the new kid’s face, glowering at him. 

He stumbles back and trips over his words. “Uh, I was just… Um…”

Behind him, Chloe and Sabrina burst into raucous laughter. He glances back in time to see Chloe lean in and whisper something in Sabrina’s ear. While he’s not  _ entirely  _ sure, he’s willing to bet money that she said something along the lines of ‘he should have agreed with me.’

Marinette’s head whips to face them at the sound of laughter, and then her eyes grow dark. Curling her hands into fists, she takes a deep breath. “Oh, oh, I  _ get  _ it now. It’s the classic gum-on-seat trick, isn’t it? Good job, you three. It’s so hilarious.”

“No, I was trying to take this off,” Adrien starts to say.

Alya snorts and rips the tissue out of his hand. She peels the gum off and then stalks to the other side of the bench to do the same. “Sure, pretty boy, I  _ totally  _ believe you. It’s not like your only way into this classroom was Chloe. It’s not like your best friend is Chloe. No, no, it’s all just a complete coincidence.”

“Just…” Marinette takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself down. When she opens her eyes again, they still blaze out, and he still wouldn’t be shocked if she slapped him. “Just go sit down, okay? It’s fine.”

“I’m sorry.” Adrien crosses the room and sits down beside Nino. He slumps, covering his face in his arms. Nino studies for a second. For someone advertised as overly confident and usually picked as the ‘sunshine child’ for ads, he certainly didn’t grow into that persona here today. 

Then, his eyes wander to his backpack. All kinds of buttons and pins sit atop the fabric, advertising all sorts of things. Nino tries to pick out something he recognizes and could actually make a conversation on. “Hufflepuff.”

“What?” He lifts his head.

Nino nods. “You’re a Hufflepuff. See, I would’ve assumed you would be a Slytherin. It kinda sounds like your dad’s one, and dude, Chloe? Textbook definition, if you catch my drift. But you don’t really fit that, do you?”

“Slytherins just get a bad rep. I think… A lot of them are good deep down. You just gotta carve your way to that.” Adrien glances at Chloe out of the corner of his eye and looks away quickly. 

He rolls his eyes. “The fact you’re defending the she-devil makes you a Hufflepuff. ‘Sides, I’m pretty sure most Slytherins deserve the rep. Voldemort? Snape? Bellatrix? I know there’s more, but I’m blanking.”

“Regulus Black was a good guy. You just had to know his true intentions.” Adrien offers a sheepish smile. “Though I’m not sure what the true intentions behind putting gum on someone’s seat is.”

“Speaking of that,” Nino begins, “why not rat out Chloe? Just tell them that it was her idea, and they’d be a lot more likely to talk to you. Hell, I didn’t intervene because I was waiting for you to do that.”

“What difference would it have made? Chloe’s obviously gonna keep doing it, whether or not she takes the brunt of it or not. At least this way, Chloe’s not upset about one of them confronting her.” Adrien shifts uncomfortably in his seat before sitting up straighter. More of a model pose, Nino notes to himself. “At least this way, I can keep Chloe out of causing more trouble, and I can keep those guys out of getting in more trouble with Chloe. They can handle themselves… But they shouldn’t have to.”

“You’ve thought this through.” Nino gives Adrien a long once-over.

With a shrug, his eyes drift over to Alya and Marinette. “I’ve dealt with Chloe for a long time, but I haven’t dealt with other people. I guess I just kinda… Base everyone’s reactions off hers or Felix’s, to be honest.”

“Well, bro… I think it’s time you get a new basis for humanity.” Nino sticks out his hand for fistbump, and Adrien slowly brushes his knuckles against his. Laughing, Nino forces him to do it a little harder. If Adrien really is a famous fencer, he should have a little more might. 

Miss Bustier breezes in a few seconds later, not sensing the tension in the room. “Sorry, guys, I got a little caught up this morning! Let’s do role call before we get to know our new student. Speaking of… Agreste, Adrien?”

“P-present!” Adrien stammers out, tripping over the words. Nino laughs, and a small smile crosses his face. He leans in to whisper, too low for the rest of the class to hear. “Can you tell I’m new to this whole school thing?”

“Just a little bit,” Nino replies.

“Agreste, Felix?” Silence. Miss Bustier clears her throat. “Okay, moving on. Bourgeois, Chloe?”

The mayor’s daughter flips up her hand and offers a cocky smile. Nino shifts to make sure she no longer remains in his line of sight. However, the mood starts to get heavier and tangle around their throats. Just like every year prior, they can connect the dots and figure out whose name will be next on the list. Right now, however, he has some strong doubt the person in question will be present.

“Bruel, Ivan?”

Chaos breaks out, the door flying across the room and slamming against the opposing wall. Several girls shriek in shock, and Nino watches as people dive beneath the table. Kim staggers to his feet and pushes Max behind his back. Alya scrambles for her backpack, pulling out a camera. 

Stoneheart’s back.

-

_ “Finally,”  _ breathes Duusu, attracting Felix’s attention for the first time all day. At the beginning of the day, Duusu rested on his shoulder to oversee every detail of every plan he put into the fashion contest. Then, he drifted away to the computer screens to start watching the news programs with occasional murmurs of dissatisfaction.

Reluctantly, Felix turns off the tablet and squints at the red words streaming at the bottom of the screen.  _ ‘STONEHEART REPORTED AT LOCAL HIGH SCHOOL. LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR NOWHERE TO BE SEEN.’ _

Then, he pushes to his feet and walks over to the vanity, adjusting his vest to see where he hide the hideous broach. No matter Duusu’s personal feelings on the broach, he really can’t hide it due to the obnoxious and flashy nature of the Miraculous. “What’s the phrase, Duusu?”

Darting through the air, Duusu lands on his shoulder and flaps his tail feathers. In the vanity, Duusu finds his own eyes and winks. “Feathers flared! And then, when you want to return to your  _ boring  _ self, it’s feathers closed.”

“Feathers flared,” he deadpans. He waits until Duusu lunges for the broach to allow a small smile to cross his face.

The world fractures, shattering into fragments of green. The keyboard of the computer, the glare off the tablet, the closed door… All explode into a murky green. His whole body rumbles, a faint pulse starting to echo throughout his head. Then, the green freezes, the fractals of light spinning to a halt in his vision.

He snorts out a laugh, examining himself in the mirror. “So much for taste, Duusu.”

Admittedly, though, he prefers the costume to both of the others’. While he received the same textured suit, Duusu managed to hide it everywhere but his legs. Slick, dark blue boots climb up to his knees, and his gloves slip from light blue to dark blue. Over his torso, he wears a similarly colored overcoat. The collar stays popped and snug, and the bottom of the coat separates into distinct peacock feathers, flaring out until it reaches his knees. The mask upon his face is relatively plain, barring the extravagant peacock feather hanging off the left side. 

At his waist, beneath the overcoat, he unclips a fan made of feathers. He tugs one loose, molding it between his fingers into a dart. He twirls it before heading to his window. Knocking it open, he pulls at the fan until it comes apart into two, equal pieces. “Duusu, if you were lying to me, I might just kill you.”

And Felix leaps.

For a second, gravity tries to tug him downwards and splatter him against the sidewalk. Then, the wind catches between him and propels him forward. Letting his eyes flutter shut, he enjoys the brilliant warmth of the sun shining upon his feathers and the wind tugging at him. He grins to himself and enjoys the freedom for only a second.

Landing against the rooftop, Felix keeps sprinting. Even with his eyes closed, he could pick out the golem’s identity. All he needs to do is follow the sound of chaos and grumbling. Stoneheart might be exactly where he expects, but the monster still surprises a snort out of him. Chloe’s clamped in the monster’s fist. 

Chloe stares at him, screaming loud enough for him to hear. “There’s  _ another  _ superhero!”

“Another unfortunate soul who needs to deal with  _ your  _ mess,” Felix deadpans, staring down at the being. He knows better than to expect to be the best fighter. Where would the darts even get through the stone skin? The eyes? That theory might just warrant further experimentation, but he leaps nonetheless to land lithely on the building awning right in front of Stoneheart.

Right as he narrows his eyes to try and seek out his eyes, the outline of a purple butterfly twists upon Stoneheart’s face.  _ That  _ didn’t happen yesterday. Before Felix gives it much thought, a giant fist falls towards him. He dodges out of the way with an extravagant roll (because apparently, when Duusu enhanced his physical prowess, he made it flashy). 

Then, a black cat falls upon Stoneheart’s head, and the being grows.

Chat Noir groans loudly. “Excuse me? That  _ doesn’t  _ count as a physical attack; that counts as me botching a landing! There’s a difference!”

“Ugh!” Stoneheart roars, batting at him. Felix’s heart clenches in his chest, and he stares at his brother in shock. The blond jolts to a side, eyes shining brightly. Then, he lunges across the distance and lands by Felix’s side, yanking his baton out right as he stops moving. 

Felix rolls his eyes. “Glad to see you didn’t give up after one day.”

“You weren’t here yesterday,” Adrien teases back. “Haven’t you heard the early bird gets the worm? You weren’t around yesterday.”

“And haven’t you heard the saying curiosity killed the cat?” Felix counters without skipping a beat. He’s a little too used to working, with  _ being,  _ with Adrien now. If anything, this will make things weird for Ladybug. The two of them are two halves of the same whole, and Ladybug is someone entirely new.

The boy bounces before cocking his head. Wrinkling his nose, he glances down the street. “Looks like someone’s calling in the cavalry. There’s a fight brewing… And satisfaction brought the cat back. Come on. Just a little information about you if we’re able to die by each other’s sides? What’s your name?”

“Le Paon,” he says, a smile hinting at his face. Last night, Duusu threw out many options for what he could choose as his name, but he opposed the unoriginal names about peacocks (the very one he just chose). At the very least, he chose to match his brother and Ladybug. They all share basic and almost boring names.

“I have teammates too!” roars Stoneheart as all of the miniature versions of him from around Paris come thundering in, identical expressions of rage upon their faces. It’s easy to see where this all stems from, and it’s easy enough to tell what the biggest (and possibly only) threat is. If only one of the small ones were in control…

He lets out a low whistle. “Okay, his eyes seem to be an opening, right?”

Without waiting for Adrien to answer, he pulls out his fans and plucks one of the feathers free. Twirling it between his fingers, Felix narrows his eyes and aims. He pulls back and sends it spiraling through the air, and it slides right into Stoneheart’s eye socket.

Adrien laughs as it howls, falling to the ground. “That was  _ badass.  _ Teach me how to throw darts like that! I’ll be your star  _ pupil.” _

“Shut it,” he grumbles.

The blond wiggles his eyebrows, bouncing on his heels before leaping off the awning to the nearest of Stoneheart’s duplicates. “I suppose I’ll just stick to my baton then. Let’s see who can defeat more until LB shows up!”

He rolls his eyes before following his brother, more darts primed and ready.

-

Chasing after Alya and Nino, Marinette grits her teeth. Considering Alya never expressed an interest in joining any  _ athletic  _ team, she made the bold assumption Alya wouldn’t be able to run all that fast. But, even with Nino trying to slow her down, nothing could stop her.

She doesn’t understand how she hasn’t wiped out yet. The street itself has turned into a war ground. The mini Stonehearts keep tearing up pieces of the asphalt to chuck at Chat Noir and whoever the new superhero is. Alya and Nino ducked into an alleyway, and Marinette skids to the opposing alleyway and ducks behind a trash can. On the opposite side of the street, she can hear their conversations but stay hidden. 

Marinette leans forward to study the different hero, allowing herself one second to reconsider what she’s doing. Her hand flits to the box within the bag. Somehow, the world tilted and changed without her. It didn’t need her holding to the ground, didn’t need her insisting to be someone she isn’t. Giving the box up to Alya might not even be needed. After all, Ladybug might not be needed when a peacock superhero is—

Right as she begins to travel down that line of thought, a Stoneheart punches him and throws him down the road. Chat yelps and lunges in his direction before almost slamming himself against another one. He tumbles backwards, swearing sharply and obscenely. 

Nino shouts over the chaos. “Do we have to bleep that out?”

“Nah, we’ll put a warning in. We’re reporting on the truth, not on something kids can watch casually,” Alya replies blithely.

Chat peeks over his shoulder for a split second, pulling out his baton to use as a fencing sword once more. “Hey, Ladybloggers! Things are getting a little  _ rocky  _ right now, so it might be time to scat!”

“No chance in hell!” Alya shouts back.

The hero lets out a short laugh before cartwheeling underneath a Stoneheart’s arm. He lunges towards the peacock-themed hero and pulls him upright. When Chat pats him on his very  _ blond  _ hair, Marinette winces. Those two match. Her dark-haired Ladybug would only stick out like a sore thumb. “I admire the passion, but I’m not sure if this is a  _ rock solid  _ plan.”

One of the monsters roars as it approaches Chat, strangely unable to speak. Marinette presses herself against the trash can, mind running in circles. Perhaps only the  _ original  _ is capable of human speech. Perhaps only the  _ original  _ can contain any human qualities. But more than just the original can dismantle the world as if it’s nothing, as if years of hard work and sweat and tears mean absolutely nothing in the face of their fists. 

“If you can hear me,” Chat begins as he starts to beat back another one, “I kinda need you, Ladybug! Scratch that, I  _ really  _ need you!”

Marinette’s hand slides into her bag, her fingers curling around the Chinese box tight enough the symbols will imprint. Then, faster than she can catch her breath, the idea hammers against her. How does she expect to pull this off? Toss the box across the alleyway? Hand it to them and openly expose the fact she should have been Ladybug? Let Nino  _ instantly  _ know who the new Ladybug is, which will put one of her closest friends in danger.

And they need her right now. There isn’t time to execute some master plan.

One of the beings roars once more, a definitive noise boiling in the back of its throat, when it hears  _ Ladybug.  _ Whoever behind the beings can’t just be Ivan; they obviously have a disliking of the teenage superheroes. Kicking its heavy, stone foot against a car, the car spirals in the direction of two Ladybloggers.

For a second, her vision flickers red, tinged with the sickly color of blood. If she does nothing, her friends will die. Her  _ only  _ friends, gone. Just because she couldn’t man up enough to don the colors of a superhero. So what if she failed yesterday? She can fail once as long as she doesn’t fail today. Because today… Today will be the way she saves the world and corrects the harm which happened yesterday.

Chat lets out another sharp expletive, throwing his baton. It flashes in the sunlight, the silver rendering her blind. She blinks frantically and tears spill free. A haziness clears enough to see the baton force the car in the opposite direction. It skips across the road, tires deflating with a sharp howl of wind and the metal screeching as the pressure forces it in a crumpled mess.

Marinette can’t wait anymore. She curls her knees up to her chest, and she flips open the box… No red blur doesn’t meet her. So, she fumbles over the earrings and tries to bring them up to her ears, only to have them clatter into the dust. Kicking up a cloud around her, Marinette presses her sweaty fingers against her mouth to stifle the wail pressing against her lips. 

The peacock cries out. “Chat!”

A muffled response replies, raw and aggressive. “Let me go, you stupid rockhead!”

No. No, no,  _ no.  _ She scoops the red earrings out of the dust and shoves them into the pierced holes like an old habit, and she starts to pray as she clips in the back. She doesn’t want to be a hero… But Paris needs one, and that’s all that matters in the long run.

Tikki materializes in front of her eyes, the spotted bug lunging at Marinette in relief. “I knew you’d come back to me!”

“I’m sorry, and we’ll talk later, but…” Marinette swipes at a tear curling on her cheek. “Tikki, spots on!”

Staring down at her familiar spotted hands, she ignores the way it feels  _ right  _ this time around. Maybe more than last time. Her hand flits to the yo-yo attached to her belt and flies over to the peacock. He takes one look at her and smiles. “Thank  _ God.” _

“Sorry I’m late.” She keeps the yo-yo twirling with each twist of her wrist and glances around.

He clears his throat. “Chat Noir was taken… But I know how to find him. He has Cataclysm, you have Lucky Charm, and I have this.  _ Pathfinder.” _

The golden light ripples from them, and Ladybug sticks her hand into it without a second thought, feeling the warmth race over her fingers and palm. She shivers in delight as it sparkles. Even as she pulls away, it remains on her gloves, and it continues curving over the skyline.

The broach beeps loudly, ruining the moment. “Five minutes then. You better go hide…” He seems to hesitate, and she softens. “Hey, we’re superheroes. I can go steal Chat Noir away, promise.”

“I trust you,” he reluctantly says. Before he takes off, though, he stops. “I’m glad you came back. I’m Le Paon.”

“I’m—”

“We all know who you are.” He gives a curt smile. “You’re the superhero to save the world. We just stick around to help.” 

-

Chat Noir can sense his father cackling from the mansion; after all, his biggest dream revolved around seeing Paris for himself. He wanted to go to school to get the real experience. If being dangled over Paris as a stone golem drags you to the Eiffel Tower doesn’t qualify as the  _ best tour ever  _ (and purr-haps the most exclusive one), then Chat Noir might have too high of standards.

Even though he dangles upside down and all the blood keeps rushing to his head, he figures out the basics of this plan. The small Stoneheart will pass him off to the big one. Sure, this one grew excessively because the other Stonehearts ‘attacked’ it en route by throwing signposts and bike racks and now he’s about the same size as the biggest Stoneheart, but… Well, Chat Noir isn’t a scaredy-cat. 

Sure, he lost his baton saving the Ladybloggers, and the jump might prove suicidal, but cats always land on their feet, don’t they? And he doesn’t feel Plagg trying to stop him in any way, shape, or form in the back of his head, so…

Sweet! Eiffel Tower! The big Stoneheart clings to it, reminding him of King Kong. At the bottom, the Stonehearts surround the base of the structure to keep out any human forces. Still, he can make out Chloe’s dad making demands, and the army trains tanks and other… Extreme measures to try and get her back. The other girl from his class must be just as petrified though.

Chat Noir closes his eyes, breathing and counting. It doesn’t matter how far the jump might be. It doesn’t matter he can feel the Stoneheart shifting as he begins to ascend. It doesn’t matter he could die, leaving Felix to mourn him bitterly and Gabriel to at least shed a single tear. It doesn’t matter because he’d rather risk not landing on his feet than letting himself be a nuisance in this fight. It’s his responsibility to fight, and it’s his responsibility to make sure he keeps his freedom.

“Not much of a superhero now,” the big Stoneheart jeers. Chat doesn’t open his eyes. The fingers start to unfurl, ready to pass him off, and he…

He jumps.

A shocked silence fills the air, and his eyes whip open. Both parties stare at him without any words. Resisting the smile as he claws through the air, Chat repeats the litany in his head.  _ Cats always land on their feet. Cats always land on their feet. Cats. Always. Land. On. Their. Feet.  _ And Chat ignores the way his ears pop from the pressure and— 

Something crashes into him, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He gags and gasps for breath, twisting to hold onto his savior better. Every sense starts to ebb back, and the chant in his head shifts.  _ ‘I didn’t die! I didn’t die!’ _

“Thank you, bugaboo,” he gasps out. He recognizes the red-and-black suit, and he’s not surprised. He knew she would be coming back to him. “I was already in love, but I just  _ fell  _ a little harder.”

“Not funny.” Her blue eyes pierce him. “Not yet, at least.”

She swings them back around the Eiffel Tower, landing them near Stoneheart’s head. Shoving his baton into his chest, she lets out a breathless  _ whoop.  _ “That was a good save. That was a… A television-worthy save.”

Then, something shifts in the air. He looks up in time to see Chloe’s ponytail whip the other girl’s cheek. She wilts and whimpers, but Chloe barely seems to notice. Judging by the way Stoneheart grows solemn, Chat thinks there might be a little heftier of consequences to hurt the girl. Chloe is acting as bait… And the police  _ and  _ superheroes all acted on it.

“You’re welcome to her!” bellows Stoneheart in response to another plea for Chloe’s safe return. He tosses her aside easily. Unlike Chat’s plunge to the ground, Chloe isn’t prepared. Chloe kicks and screams and whatever bliss overcame him refuses to overtake her.

Chat glances at Ladybug. “That’s my cue. You got Stoneheart?”

“Save Chloe.” 

Taking off running, he attempts the jump again. This time, though, he keeps his claws tucked around his baton. The wind works with him, and he presses Chloe against his chest. She cries out as she throws her arms around his neck and wraps her legs around his waist. She whispers something suspiciously like  _ ‘thank God’  _ in his neck, but God knows Chloe doesn’t pray.

Placing her down gently, he offers a wink and a salute. “Let’s meet under better circumstances next time, okay?”

“Leave her, Chat.” Le Paon sidles up beside him, fans in his hands. Chat  _ needs  _ to ask about that when they have free time. The fans seem to be a lot more exciting than his baton. Then again, when will they  _ ever  _ have time?

“You’re a sourpuss,” he replies. Nonetheless, he takes a running start, using his baton to race up the side of the Eiffel Tower. Alongside him, Le Paon stays in step.

The second they reach Ladybug, Stoneheart’s glowing eyes settle on them. He pulls a face, but no words come out. Instead, he coughs and hacks, and Ladybug flinches at his side. He slips his hand into hers, giving the little reassurance he can offer. She smiles back.

His coughs give way to a swarm of dark purple butterflies, who then give way to a giant mask. If you asked Chat, it might be a  _ tad  _ overdramatic. “People of Paris, listen carefully. I am Hawkmoth.”

“Hawkmoth?” mutters Le Paon.

Chat shrugs. “Cooler name than ours. Bet he has the moth miraculous—”

Both Le Paon and Ladybug give him a look before saying. “Butterfly miraculous.” 

“Are these three really the ones you trust to be your heroes? A hapless flake? A reckless daredevil? A simple thief? Surely, Paris deserves better than this. Give me your Miraculouses now, ‘heroes.’ I know what’s best, and all you do is cause damage.” The mask shifts to stare down at them.

Ladybug claps her hands before he finishes the last word, hooting. “‘Thief?’ ‘Daredevil?’ ‘Flake?’ Only have insults to throw at us, Hawkmoth? And rather lame insults at that when you are a  _ fearmonger?  _ We all know the real villain here. We  _ all  _ know who’s in the wrong… You two, get to Stoneheart. The people of Paris need to hear something.”

Le Paon and Chat Noir make eye contact, nodding resolutely before scaling the Eiffel Tower. 

_ “Let me make this promise to you now, people of Paris. No… Let me make a promise to you as a daughter, as a child, as a cousin, as a student to people like me or people unlike me. The people in  _ our  _ city.” _

Le Paon flicks out a dart, waving it in Stoneheart’s face. Chat Noir smiles and follows suit with his baton. With a single look shared between bright green eyes, they reach a silent agreement. They lunge forward in unison, flanking the being on either side to close him in and trap him.

_ “No matter who wants to hurt you, no matter where they try to trap you, no matter why they feel they have the right, no matter when they attack you, we will find you. And we will come to you. Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Le Paon… We are here to keep you safe now!” _

Pouncing on the hand holding the girl he doesn’t know, he starts to wiggle in between the stone. After all, the last akuma rested within the closed fist. If the Stoneheart shares the same conditions (physical attacks lead to a larger, physical body), maybe he shares the same hidden Akuma. Le Paon begins to call out uninventive insults as the girl cries out as she weasels his way in.

_ “All you have to do…” _

He pries the paper out  _ (score)  _ and tosses it at Le Paon. The peacock superhero takes off running immediately.

Chat slides in front of Stoneheart before he can try to go after Le Paon. He flicks up his hand, beckoning him forward. Now, it’ll just be him and Stoneheart and the girl. And he can hold it off; he can stop the being from advancing further.

_ “Is call.” _

The world explodes into white.  _ “Miraculous Ladybug!” _

-

Rather than returning to the classroom, Alya drags Nino to a bench outside and plops down. He collapses beside her, covering his face with his hands. “Holy shit, Alya. We almost… We… We could’ve  _ died  _ today.”

“But we didn’t?” Alya offers, but it falls short even as it rolls off her tongue. She sighs and scoots closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder. Even when she closes her eyes, all she pictures is the car hurtling towards her. This might be nightmare fodder for awhile. Or, maybe, Alya can keep rewatching the videos her camera caught. Because the more she watches those videos, the more fictional they become. 

Another nagging thought pulls at her, something she knows better than to share aloud. It’d freak out her parents, and it’d freak out the class. But Alya started playing with the idea when Ladybug solved this akuma with  _ Miraculous Ladybug  _ and mended the city… As well as mending any injury (after all, she got to bear witness to watching a cut on Nino’s forehead knit itself shut). Does that mean any consequence during the fight means nothing because Ladybug will be able to fix it? Could someone  _ die  _ and be healed?

How far is Miraculous Ladybug’s reach? How many boundaries can it defy? 

Nino lets out a stuttering breath before reaching for his backpack. Yanking out his headphones, he hesitates. “Are you okay if I just… I need a moment just to lose myself in the music.”

“It was scary,” Alya agrees. “Don’t let me stop you.”

As he escapes into his music, using that to calm the fact his legs keep trembling and his hands aren’t doing much better, she opens up the Ladyblog and flips to the public forum side of it. This feature belongs solely to her. Nino actually opposed it when she brought it up last night; people get too rowdy with opinions, especially when it comes to something as  _ intense  _ as superheroes. She thought the public deserved a voice though. 

Someone posted a more… Amateur video of Le Paon using his special ability. Rewinding the video, again and again, she watches as  _ Pathfinder  _ unfolds from the two of them and darts across the rooftops. She lets out a low whistle. “Out of those three, I know which ones I’d take.”

Nino doesn’t respond, so she talks out loud as if he was listening anyway. It’s easier to think out loud after all. This one, each word holds equal weight. The thoughts just spin around and around in nonsensical patterns, insisting some common thread exists there despite the abundance of evidence to the contrary. “Cataclysm and Pathfinder are both means to an end… Well, I guess Cataclysm can  _ be  _ an end, just like Miraculous Ladybug. It’s just not an end you’d want…”

Even though the video didn’t capture the moment, she reminds the way the air felt when Chat Noir activated Cataclysm. Everyone stilled, and while Miraculous Ladybug pulled people in, Cataclysm repulsed them. She stumbled over her feet even though she was approaching, some sort of instinct to keep herself safe from it. 

“What happens if Chat Cataclysms the akuma to save the day?” She makes a face, and Alya flips from her Ladyblog to the notes app on her phone. Random musings take up one section. Typing that up, she leans back against the bench and sighs. While the question warrants an answer, she has a feeling the day she discovers  _ that  _ is the day the world ends. 

“Miraculous Ladybug is the only way to go.” Alya makes her mind on the spot. The world needs a Ladybug much more than it needs a Chat Noir or a Le Paon. If it comes down to it, if she can help in any way, she’ll always try to help Ladybug first and foremost.

A raindrop falls on her phone screen, and Alya startles. Nino looks up and lets out a surprised laugh. Yanking down his headphones with one fluid movement, he glances over at her. “Of all the shit that went down today, I think the rain might’ve been the one that scared me the most.”

“I don’t think rain was in the forecast.” Tucking her phone back into her bag, she spreads her fingers and glances up. “Do you think Miraculous Ladybug had something to do with this? Do you think it’s always going to rain after a successful akuma fight?”

“I think, this time, it’s just the news getting the weather wrong.” Nino smiles at her as he gets to his feet, offering her his hand. She grabs it and practically throws him into her lap in her attempt to get up. Slipping, he spins her around until the two of them stand  _ so  _ close together. Alya can almost hear his heartbeat in her ears.

She smiles and pushes away. “I suppose. But I wouldn’t be shocked if Ladybug has a hand in every part of our future. Those are our saviors, Nino; you  _ heard  _ those speeches.”

“If the heroes are in charge, then it’s going to be a good future.” Nino laughs again as Alya starts to drag him inside. The raindrops splatter against her hair, gluing it to her back, and her glasses fill with each drop. The idea of going back to school after almost being attacked by a  _ car  _ feels a little ridiculous, but the mayor announced business as usual as he tries to sort out exactly what happened. 

Glancing over her shoulder, she notes their hands remain entwined. She won’t pull away, not right away. Maybe when they enter the school, she’ll pretend she somehow forgot about it. “As long as you accompany me into that future.”

“I couldn’t imagine a better partner in crime.” And he squeezes her hand.

-

The tension hangs heavy in the air. While the school might be on an ‘extended lunch break’ due to recent events, it will resume for afternoon classes. Before the attack, Adrien hadn’t made it past role call. Whether or not he gets to return lies solely in Gabriel’s hands, and God knows their father can’t ever be known for his sympathy and the goodness in his heart.

Adrien shifts beside him, spinning one of the buttons on the backpack around and around. When Nathalie announced their father wanted to have a  _ video-call,  _ he stashed the backpack and offered his best smile. Now, he just keeps fiddling with it under the table. His anxiety rings out in the air, but Felix keeps his gaze trained either straight forward or on the top of his head. He won’t embarrass his brother by alerting him to how  _ scared  _ he is.

“If you don’t attempt to calm down,” Felix says (because it’s excitement fueling Adrien, not fear, hopefully), “this video call will be cut short.”

“Hm?” His brother’s head snaps up before he nods. “Right, right.”

Felix wonders if any of the energy comes from the akuma fight. Last night, when Adrien buzzed about the original akuma attack, he had an excess of energy. Now, after the fight with so high of stakes, maybe the same effect gets to him. After all, his brother  _ did  _ get captured by Stoneheart, and his brother did take a leap of faith.

_ (And Felix’s heart stopped in his chest as he watched his brother plunge towards the ground, about to become a stain on the street. And Duusu told him that Miraculous Ladybug can’t reverse a death for a wielder of a Miraculous. Only civilians receive the chance to get healed; if he died as Le Paon, he’d stay dead even after Miraculous Ladybug went about healing everyone.) _

Duusu offered little comfort. Nestling into his cheek, he promised nothing that bad could happen. He added a  _ ‘not again’  _ before refusing to elaborate, which only amped Felix up more. Now, he can’t help but look at Duusu differently. Felix doesn’t even know what questions he wants to ask him, though. 

Besides, of course, why does Duusu insist on eating corn to refuel? He just can’t get over that one. 

Adrien sighs. “I’m just… I’m so excited to go back to school.”

“Like Gabriel will let you.” He adjusts his sleeves as Adrien rakes his hand through his hair.

Nathalie gives him a sharp look as she sets up the video call. “Adrien, you know better than to mess up your hair. And Felix, you know better than to address your father so informally.”

“Nathalie,” he says slowly, “I think, since he’s supposed to be  _ my father,  _ I have the right to address him any way I would wish. No?”

“No.”

Adrien shoves at Felix’s knee, frowning. “Take it easy on Nathalie,  _ and Father,  _ Fe. Besides, I would’ve thought you’d be happy I wouldn’t be able to go to school anymore. You don’t want to go…  _ Even though  _ Father is going to let me go to school again. He’s just calling to tell me to get good grades and wish me luck on making friends and…”

“Someone’s been watching too much TV,” he mutters.

Gaping at him, Adrien’s eyes grow wide and his mouth falls open. As he splutters to come up with a response to that, especially since Gabriel discourages any TV watching and Adrien’s anime addiction stands in opposition of that, Nathalie simply rolls her eyes. “I suppose boys will be boys  _ every  _ generation.”

“What is  _ that  _ supposed to mean, Miss Sancoeur?” Felix teasingly asks.

She rolls her eyes again, but her fondness shows through the waver of her lips. She presses them together to stop the smile from emerging. It’s hard to believe that, once upon a time, Nathalie hadn’t been a permanent fixture of their life. Gabriel only hired her after the death of their mother when they were barely four years old. Then again, in Felix’s opinion, he’d rather have Nathalie than the ghost Gabriel describes to them in sparing details. Sometimes, it almost sounds like he hopes she’ll come back someday.

But the dead stay dead.

Adrien, beside him, perks up at the familiar game. Pretending to push glasses up the bridge of his nose, Adrien forms a scowl. “Sancoeur, I don’t believe we’ve addressed the concern of your eye roll. It is neither acceptable nor aesthetic. Shall you continue, you shall find yourself in the same place as our old limo driver.”

“Incredibly successful and pursuing a medical degree,” whispers Felix.

Nathalie’s poker face doesn’t break as she stares down the twins. She holds up the tablet to display the time, warning them of the impending call. “Of course, sir, I will stop rolling my eyes upon your prodigal sons.”

“Specifically, the one who has pleased me more,” Felix intones, “which would not be Felix, who suggested this absurd idea of a make-your-own derby hat.”

“He must fly on his own,” Adrien recites, “though he will likely crash and burn.”

“That is already on the schedule, Monsieur Agreste.” Nathalie winks at Felix before tipping her tablet in his direction. He frantically drinks up the due dates and assignments placed upon the tablet. He won’t be caught off-guard by a surprise assignment again.

Then, the screen lights up with a call from the  _ real  _ Monsieur Agreste. Nathalie reaches over, attaching the tablet to the back of the seat at the head of the table with velcro. Adrien suggested the practical choice; Gabriel wanted something high-tech, and Felix wanted something fashionable. 

“You disobeyed me yesterday, Adrien,” Gabriel opens from the second the video starts. 

Adrien freezes, his eyes flitting outside the window as if he can find the school. Then again, he knows Adrien refuses to make eye contact. “I’m sorry, Father, it’s just—”

“I will never understand why you’re so insistent on going to this school… A  _ public  _ school.” Gabriel wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I  _ never  _ went to a public school. I’d prefer to enroll you at a boarding school if I must send you to some school.”

When Adrien doesn’t reply right away, Gabriel clears his throat. “However, I suppose you can attend this school… As long as you spend time with your brother. Although Felix already offered to sacrifice his time, he cannot slack on his internship. As such, you cannot slack on your photoshoots. Since I’ve funded your various extracurricular lessons, I assume you shall be able to keep up with that. And, in addition, if either of you slacks, school will go out the window.”

Adrien stares at Felix in shock, and Felix smiles down at his shoes. He told Nathalie after the akuma attack that if it meant Adrien could go to school, he’d go with him. It was meant to be a surprise, something Adrien only got to find out about if it worked.

And, as Adrien tackles him into a hug as the video call flickers to black, he’d consider this as a job well done.

-

As she enters the classroom, shirt somewhat soaked from the rain, Marinette throws out an arm. Alya bumps into it and stares. Before Alya can protest the sudden change, Marinette jerks her head at the seats behind Nino. “I think we’ve been sitting in the wrong place all day.”

“Hell yeah!” Alya doesn’t hesitate as she switches direction, planting herself behind Nino. Then, she leans forward and jabs her shoe into the small of his back.

Nino glances over his shoulder at the two of them, a shadow of a smile starting to form. Pushing her foot away, he leans back and starts to say something when Alya swoops his cap and places it on her head. Without skipping a beat, he snaps a photo of her making double peace signs. “You might just look better in this than I do.” 

“You’re such a flatterer,” coos Alya. 

Marinette giggles to herself, leaning back in her seat. One of her hands drifts up to her new earrings, twisting it once, twice, three times as if to remind herself there’s still there. Her other hand slips into her bag and caresses the side of the Chinese box. At the beginning of today, she refused to acknowledge either’s existence in the fervent hope Alya would make a Ladybug. Now, she knows she can’t just pass it away that easily. 

Marinette fits in her role a lot better now, and the world grows a little more comfortable around her. Sure, she knows she’ll have to experiment with the yo-yo out on her balcony some night. It came naturally, but any ambitious moves or moves she actively thought about… She found herself hesitating. Practice will take the hesitation out of it.

And losing some of the hesitation made the world safer. Kim walks into the classroom, showing off and jumping around and pretending he  _ didn’t  _ use crutches at the beginning of today. Ivan settles in the back of the room, and Mylene drifts over to him. Nino and Alya sit in front of her, no sign of any damage from the car.

A fond smile crosses her face as she looks back and forth between her friends. She almost misses Chloe and Sabrina stalking into the room.

“What the hell?” Chloe cries the second she crosses the threshold. Marinette wrinkles her nose.  _ ‘Almost.’  _ “Have you somehow gotten brain damage since yesterday? Those are  _ not  _ your seats.”

Marinette bites down on her lip and sits up straighter. An old phrase from the page of a comic she read with Bridgette floats through her head, and she recites it immediately. “‘All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.’”

Alya lets out a whoop, and Marinette spares her a quick smile. She’s not surprised Alya read the same comic books as her. It’s rare to find ones made in Paris, and she knows, from the introductory ice-breakers they did yesterday, that Alya hails from a different part of Paris. She just transferred to get better academics from her old school (though Marinette suspects there might be more to that). 

Chloe blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” Alya says from beside her.

The blonde doesn’t even look over at her. Instead, she keeps her eyes trained on Marinette. Every other year, she couldn’t maintain eye contact. This year, though, she stares at her without any shame or embarrassment. Marinette needs to learn how to stand up for herself, and it starts with the  _ biggest  _ bully in this class. Not quite baby steps, but sometimes, you just need to take the plunge. “Yes, Chloe?”

“Move. Out. Of. My. Seat.” She grits out from between her teeth. “I don’t care about your lame superheroes.”

“It’s not really about the superhero… And I’m a little surprised you know where that quote’s from. It’s about the bigger message.” Marinette props herself up on her fist and waits for Chloe to respond. Chloe never backs down from a fight, and all Marinette does is back down from fights.

Until, of course, today. Today, when she stood up as Ladybug, she saved the day from the biggest threat. She defeated  _ Hawkmoth,  _ the villain pulling all the strings. She knows he’ll be back in some capacity; he only appeared as butterflies in a mask today. Later, he’ll have to appear in person. For the same reason Marinette already plans to set up some sort of patrol schedule between the three of them, for the same reason she expects to see both of them roaming Paris tonight when the sun goes down, Hawkmoth will keep coming back again and again.

Magic is a powerful motivator, and power serves even stronger. She wants to protect and defend Paris, but she’d continue donning the Ladybug costume long after the threat disappears at this rate. She can’t imagine another future for herself… It  _ becomes  _ a part of her. And Hawkmoth, whatever his threat is? He’s already embraced this future.

Chloe grunts. “And what’s the  _ overall message?” _

“Good guys always prevail. So I’m done putting up with your shit, Chloe…” Her eyes flit around the classroom. All eyes rest on hers, even those who want to be in Chloe’s inner circle. She finds herself meeting Kim’s eye. Kim, the boy who has harbored a crush on her for so long without once realizing she might not like him back. “And I have this sinking suspicion that everyone else might be tired of dealing with it too.”

“Excuse me—”

“So  _ move out of the way.”  _ Marinette grins to herself. In the back of the room, Rose lets out a loud call of agreement. A blush spreads across her cheeks, but a few more people (Juleka, Rose, Ivan, Mylene) suggest Chloe moves her seat. Even Alix offers a flick of her wrist to point at the seats she’ll claim alongside Sabrina.

Chloe growls. “You haven’t won this one, Marinette.”

“It doesn’t matter, win or lose. I don’t care, frankly.” Marinette nods to herself. “But I have a feeling you care a lot more than I do.”

At the front of the room, Adrien Agreste walks in with a carbon copy of himself. This time, though, she did her research enough to know he’s Felix Agreste. The better-dressed twin whispers something in his ear, and the model lets out a cheerful laugh. Marinette pauses at the sound of it. It sounds… Well, it doesn’t sound pretty or rehearsed or perfect. It’s the kind of laugh which will come with a snort of wheezing, and it’s not what she’d expect from a model.

When Adrien slides in the seat in front of her, still smiling, his eyes drift up to hers. She looks away quickly. One laugh doesn’t excuse the fact he sided with Chloe. One laugh doesn’t excuse the fact it only took him one day to leap to conclusions about who the ‘right crowd’ in this school is. 

But his laugh makes her smile, just a little, when she knows he isn’t looking.

-

When Adrien was little, he loved thunderstorms. He loved holing up in his bedroom with Felix by his side, watching the rain splatter across the glass and the room light up with strikes of lightning. Felix always let out a little yelp and nestled into his side. Against all odds, his infallible brother couldn’t shake the childhood fear. Adrien felt fearless in those moments; his twin brother always acted like the big brother in the relationship. With thunderstorms, he got a chance to be a big brother.

Now, as he stands just outside the school, hand clamped around the umbrella, he debates letting it go and sprinting through puddles and raindrops. Felix already ducked inside the car; his brother might not be terrified of the rain anymore, but he still hesitates.

Plagg mutters from the nest he made in Adrien’s backpack. He knows he peeks out the opening between the two zippers. “Why are we still out here? I don’t wanna get soaked.”

“Cats don’t like the rain,” Adrien whispers. “I forgot about that.”

“Anyone with a  _ brain  _ doesn’t like rain. It really only helps the flowers, and who even cares about flowers?” Plagg says. Adrien smiles in the direction of the limo. Felix would certainly agree with  _ that  _ assessment… Especially since he can see his brother’s face peeking out of the car, wondering what exactly Adrien is doing.

It’s fine. He knows the Gorilla has no intention of hurrying him along. Unlike Gabriel, Adrien makes a point to befriend everyone on staff. He knows the Gorilla well enough to know he’s patient to no end, and he always assumes the best in people. If Adrien wants to wait in the rain, then the Gorilla will assume there’s a good reason for that and even if they miss the deadline, this might be more important.

The girl from class, Marinette, ducks out of the school. She scrunches up her nose as the rain starts to hit her, and she wiggles out of her jacket. Holding it over her head, he watches as the gray fabric gets dappled with the heavy dots of rain. 

He twirls the umbrella in his hand. “Hey.”

When she doesn’t respond, Adrien sighs and steps closer. Marinette stares at him with suspicious bluebell eyes. He doesn’t blame her. Even after Nino told him the best way to apologize is to tell the truth and be himself, he still couldn’t find the words to describe it to her. Adrien can’t just throw Chloe under the bus.

Reaching out, he shares the umbrella between the two of them. At least this one, if anyone will get splattered, it’ll be him. He doesn’t mind the rain anyway. The patter of raindrops turns to a symphony above their heads. “I’m sorry about the gum. I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but I really was just trying to take it off. I promise. I know it must look bad… You don’t know me, and you don’t have any reason to believe me but… I am sorry.”

Marinette blinks.

“And this is gonna sound like a whole bunch of excuses, but I’ve never been to school before. I never had friends before… Well, I never had friends beyond Chloe and Felix, and one of those people is required to be friends with me.” He glances at her, and she smiles softly at that comment. “So, I know she’s a good friend to me, and I didn’t know she wasn’t a good friend outside of me. And… And I’m not ratting her out. I just… This is all new to me.”

She shifts a little closer.

He takes it as permission to continue. “School, friends, all of that… I didn’t think to put chewing gum on your seat, but I did think, watching you stand up for yourself, that maybe I’m standing up for the wrong people. And I’d like to, maybe, get a chance to be friends with you.”

Gently, Adrien holds out the umbrella and waits. Marinette takes it, her eyes never leaving his face. When her hand curls around the umbrella, fingers tight around the metal, he slowly releases his grip until it belongs solely to Marinette. He backpedals until she remains alone under the umbrella. 

The rain dances across his hair and his face. He can imagine Plagg moaning and groaning about the rain, and he can hear the zipper closing the rest of the way. He smiles. “I know it might be a lot to ask, and I totally understand if you say no to me. But… Maybe we can have a fresh start tomorrow.”

A drum pounds above their heads, and a melody flashes across the sky. Adrien’s eyes flit upwards with a delighted smile while Marinette flinches. The umbrella collapses downwards and surrounds her. She lets out a tiny squeak, and Adrien laughs lightly to himself.

“I’d, uh… I’d like that,” she stammers out. “A fresh start, I mean.”

“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns and walks down the stairs, but he hears Marinette starting to laugh as she untangles the umbrella. Turning before he reaches the bottom and finally gets into the limo, he clears his throat. “It was nice to meet you, Marinette.”

“It was niat… I mean nice and neat and, uh… I’ll see you to-tomorrow…” 

Adrien doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to imagine her blush. Felix usually stammers when he’s a little freaked too; he just rarely gets freaked out. The rain and dealing with Adrien, especially after she spent the whole day thinking he must be really similar to Chloe, might have rattled her. 

The zipper rattles open again, and Adrien tips his head in a way to hear Plagg. “First day of school, and we already have two lovebirds. Yuck.”

“Not lovebirds. Just a friend.” Adrien lights up and reaches backwards, tugging the zipper shut. Before it closes all the way, Plagg nips at his finger. He laughs and spins on his heel, letting the rain splatter on his shoulders and his head and his bag. 

Marinette laughs behind him, and he grins. A friend, in many ways, might be even better than some great love. He doesn’t need that. After all, Adrien already can flirt and flounce about Ladybug (someone who is rapidly becoming both a friend and something more in his eyes). He wants a few more friends in his corners.

Opening the car door, he slides beside Felix who shifts away. “You are  _ soaking  _ wet, Adrien. Nathalie is going to make you dry off before you get past the entranceway.”

“I don’t mind,” he replies. Adrien runs his fingers with his damp hair, feeling it starting to twine around his fingers. He grins to himself. “I think I finally made things right with Marinette.”

“I wasn’t aware that things were wrong between you and Marinette.”

Adrien glances at him from the corner of his eye. “And now, you’re never going to need to know what was wrong. We promised a fresh start tomorrow, but I think a fresh start will start today between us.”

“You are such a sap,” mutters Felix.

-

_ Nooroo woke up as Plagg slammed the door open. His eyes met the other kwami’s, and he felt something vibrate in the air. Nooroo pushed upright and started floating to stay on level with Plagg, just in case this comes to blows. “Are you seriously hiding out right now? From getting a new wielder?” _

_ “Plagg, I don’t—” _

_ “Your last wielder gave you kindness!” Plagg’s tail flicked in his anger. “And what? You scared of getting  _ more  _ kindness?” _

_ “You know we have the greatest capacity for evil. Do you really want to risk bringing another villain into the world?” Nooroo asked. _

_ He narrowed his eyes. “News flash, birdbrain, there’s a villain right now. This one, though, we can stop. I never thought  _ I’d  _ be the one lecturing someone else about being lazy, but honestly, Nooroo? Get the stick out of your ass and take a chance.” _

_ “The world will go on without a butterfly superhero,” he reminded him. _

_ Plagg groaned. “If I don’t get to take a century-long nap, you sure as hell don’t either. And after we finish this evil off, the two of us can take a long nap together. But with a lot of space between us because you move when you sleep, and it’s a little upsetting.” _

_ “That’s a compelling deal,” Nooroo joked. He could tell it fell flat by the way Plagg flicked his tail again. His voice dropped lower. “I don’t want to be used for evil again. I’m not sure if I can… If I can unsee it again. And Wayzz keeps coming in, but he’s always been with a Guardian of the Miraculous. He doesn’t know what it’s like being used to fight your friends, your  _ family.”

_ Reaching out, Plagg wrapped his paws in his, forcing Nooroo to meet his eyes. “I’m shit at comforting people. But I have a feeling that you’ll always be able to spring back from evil. And besides, Master Fu rarely picks wrong. He’s kinda an asshat about it.” _

_ “I think you’re kinda brilliant at comforting people.” Nooroo knocks his shoulder against Plagg’s. “Make me a promise though.” _

_ “I don’t make promises. Too much to uphold—”  _

_ “Promise me, that if I’m ever used for evil and you get the shot, you’ll kill me.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneak Peek: 
> 
> If he could stay in the same family forever, he would. The problem always rests with his wielders, though. Most of the time, they don't survive long enough to have children. And those who do survive long enough, they often turn their back to the light.


End file.
